


Always the Bridesmaid

by mylifeisloki



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Romanogers Patriotic Smut Week, Romanogers Smut Week, wedding!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 50,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attending Pepper's wedding as the maid of honor is something of a terrible privilege. Natasha's biding her time until it's over- that is, until she catches sight of a handsome groomsman. All of a sudden, there might just be something at the reception that Natasha isn't at all prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony and Pepper

‘Just remember,’ Natasha reminded herself. ‘You’re in this for Pepper.’

That thought had been commonplace for several hours now, all through the process of getting up before the goddamn sun and showing her face at the Stark Mansion with coffee and pastries in hand. As the maid of honor, such was her lot in life right now. But Natasha had been doing her duty for six months now and as much as she loved Pepper to pieces, she couldn’t _wait_ for the happy couple to fuck off on their honeymoon so she could just get some rest and maybe go one Saturday without a wedding-related emergency.

Pepper had been talking for the last thirty minutes, at least. She was going on and on about how Tony better show up on time and how she didn’t really trust Bruce to keep him on schedule. And while Natasha understood that the likelihood of those two actually being prompt was slim, she was pretty sure Tony actually _wanted_ to marry Pepper. He’d be there, that was all that mattered.

He’d be there, or Natasha would personally remove his balls with her bare hands.

“Pepper, you’ve got to stop worrying,” she sighed from where she was enjoying an apple turnover and a much needed cup of coffee. “They are _actually_ a couple of geniuses. They’ll figure it out and if they don’t, they’ve still got Rhodey and Clint and Thor—“

“Actually, Thor can’t make it. His flight was delayed on the way back from Sweden and he’s not sure he’ll even make it to the reception.” Apparently that was the wrong thing to mention, because Pepper was beginning to pace back and forth, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Natasha frowned. “Wait, so who’s walking down the aisle with Wanda?” As of last night, as far as she knew, Thor was paired with Wanda for the entrance to the ceremony _and_ the reception. This threw everything off, but she wasn’t going to panic and add to whatever awful things were going through Pepper’s head already.

“We have a friend who just came back from the army and we asked him to fill in. He wasn’t even going to come, but Tony convinced him. Steve. Oh, but you’re right. Maybe Steve will keep them on track.”

With that settled, Pepper managed to sit and pick at her breakfast until the other bridesmaids showed up. Laura and Wanda were excited right away, but Maria moved to stand close to Natasha and the two kept it as low-key as they could without being impolite.

“Is she still worrying?” Maria ventured. “She’s going to give herself a nervous breakdown.”

Natasha chuckled softly. “Not Pepper. You and I both know she’s deceptively productive under pressure.”

By the time the hairdressers and makeup artists arrived, the girls were in various degrees of undress; Pepper was all locked into her bridal lingerie, Laura had picked out a surprisingly daring set (“The kids are with a sitter. I can have fun once in a while.”), Maria was in a simple black set, Wanda wore her lingerie and a little slip to cover up, and Natasha had picked her favorite red set, complete with a push up bra that might get her a little attention at the reception. Thankfully (at least in Natasha’s mind) there wasn’t that much talking while their makeup was getting done.

Finally, it was time to get dressed. The gowns Pepper had picked out were made of a thick, satiny material they’d only decided on because each woman decided she could get away with it. With a scoop neck and straps about an inch wide or so, the floor-length dresses were modest enough to keep the attention on Pepper where it belonged, but sexy enough to make sure the bridesmaids looked good for the pictures. They dressed quickly and all four women made sure Pepper had everything she needed to slip into her own gown.

Pepper’s chosen wedding dress was a strapless number with a sweetheart neckline. It cinched in at her waist and followed the line of her hips before becoming a graceful skirt that turned into a short train behind her. The veil was handmade and Natasha _knew_ how expensive it was, so she was extra careful helping Pepper get it on. Soon enough, she was ready and the reveal had even Maria a little misty-eyed.

Finally, it was time. They took a limo to the venue and to everyone’s surprise, the men were already assembled in the lobby. They were greeted, but soon enough Natasha was seeing to Pepper and she didn’t really have time to notice anything else. Before long, they were all getting lined up and Natasha slipped her arm through Bruce’s, taking her place right beside the best man like she was supposed to.

The procession in went perfectly. Bruce and Natasha went first, followed by Maria and an appropriately distracted Rhodey, then Clint and Laura… and by the time Wanda began her way down the aisle, Natasha was free to look and see what the newcomer filling in for Thor looked like.

Standing beside Wanda, he looked very tall, very broad, and impossibly handsome. Natasha made a mental note to congratulate Pepper on knowing so many attractive men. And yeah, Wanda was kind of blushing really high on her cheeks, but she looked more _pleased_ than attracted, which was endlessly amusing to Natasha. It was just so funny because all the men were dressed exactly the same- tailored, black, three piece suits that cost more than Natasha would ever admit out loud. But Steve looked so much better than everyone else, perhaps because she could focus on the shoulders and the neat little waist and his _ass_ for a glorious moment before he was facing forward again. As they took their places, Natasha caught herself looking at Steve a little more, but just as their eyes met, the wedding march began to play.

As a rule, Natasha liked to tell herself that she hated weddings. They felt so overdone and so _fake_ that she usually avoided attending and since she hadn’t ever had a best friend until Clint found her and refused to leave, she’d been relatively successful. This would be the third wedding she attended willingly; the first was Clint and Laura’s, wherein she served as a bridesmaid, and the second was the wedding between Gemma Simmons and Leo Fitz. She’d only attended that second one because Bruce was invited as a Hail Mary (They were all scientists and apparently the kids, who worked at SI and fell in love over Tony’s state of the art lab equipment, were big fans.) and Tony insisted that he come with or without a date. Faced with the prospect of going only accompanied by two lovebirds, Bruce shyly asked Natasha to come with him and she didn’t have the heart to say no.

With all that aside, seeing Pepper walking up the aisle and watching Tony’s face just light up as he took a deep breath was just—amazing. Standing in the presence of true love and all that. Natasha didn’t believe in perfect matches, but she knew for sure that Tony and Pepper were going to be happy together. She took Pepper’s bouquet as the bride and groom took their places in front of the priest and readied herself for the ceremony itself. But as she faded into a state of vaguely listening to the vows that really tore at her natural cynicism, she noticed that someone was looking her way again.

Steve, who was standing on a lower step behind the other groomsmen, was the picture of a good soldier and the picture of a gentleman, but his eyes were fixed on Natasha to the point where she was becoming more and more confident that the reception was going to be fun. Natasha met his gaze without hesitation and smirked a little bit, only to receive a warm, bashful smile in return.

Oh, yes. He was all hers.

“---I now pronounce you husband, and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Cheers erupted from the audience as Tony and Pepper finally kissed to make it official and turned to wave to their friends gathered around. Everyone applauded and Natasha handed the bouquet back to Pepper as she headed back down the aisle with Tony. Just like they practiced, everyone followed the happy couple out towards the lobby and into a separate room for the first round of pictures while the rest of the guests filed out of the room and into a larger hall for the reception.

It was like being a really underpaid model, from Natasha’s point of view. First it was the whole wedding party arranged in a neat line. She was positioned right beside Natasha and it already felt like she was smiling too much. Then the bride and groom were whisked away to see to a few things, which left the bridesmaids and groomsmen to pose on their own. They got a few shots of Natasha and Bruce as the maid of honor and best man, then all the bridesmaids together--- It was then that Natasha glanced over to Steve again and found him laughing at something Clint said. He had a great laugh.

The groomsmen were next and Natasha wasn’t shy about checking Steve out for basically the entire time, even purposely biting her lower lip when he met her gaze and thereby causing him to nearly trip over himself and into the others. Worth it.

When Tony and Pepper came back, they took pictures with Natasha and Bruce, then it was Tony with all the bridesmaids, then Pepper with the bridesmaids, then they switched for pictures with the groomsmen. By the time they were released, Natasha was pretty sure she had to go unscrew her smile or suffer the consequences. The bride and groom were taken away for pictures in the garden since they’d lucked out and picked a nice, sunny day and now all they had to do was wait.

Natasha had arranged herself against a wall with Maria and the others all gathered around nearby talking about how nice the ceremony was and how happy they were for Pepper. Obviously Natasha was happy for her too, but her dislike of weddings was coming back full force.

“Hey.”

Glancing up, Natasha found herself looking into a pair of blue eyes that couldn’t possibly be real. Steve looked like Prince Charming up close, like he ought to be riding in on a white horse and carrying her off into the sunset. “Hey yourself.”

Steve offered up the same charming smile had earlier and it only managed to reinforce Natasha’s decision to have him that evening. Maybe in a closet somewhere, maybe back at her place, maybe even in a hotel room to spice things up a little. Who knows? The night was full of endless possibilities at this point and if she could have Steve in several different places, it was all the better.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he said politely. “Steve Rogers. I’m a friend of Tony’s.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” she answered, turning her attention right to him. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“It’s real nice to meet you,” he said sincerely. His eyes even wandered down for a moment to check her out, but he covered it up by clearing his throat and offering up another smile. That smile probably got him out of trouble all the time. “How do you know the bride?”

“I worked at SI for a while and got on Tony’s radar. I met Pepper through him, and then she stole me away to be her personal assistant instead.” Natasha had taken advantage of the company’s employee education benefits, gone to school for a degree in linguistics, and gotten herself a position in the international relations division of SI. Bigger opportunities, a huge increase in salary since she came with the CEO’s recommendation, and more challenges that Natasha enjoyed meeting every single day. “What about you? How did you meet Tony?” She held up one finger. “No, let me guess. Tennis camp. No, boarding school!” She grinned teasingly. “No, no. It’s definitely that you were both parking your one-of-a-kind sports cars in the same high profile parking garage.”

Steve, who looked very much like he wouldn’t know what to do with one of Tony’s cars _or_ a tennis racket, laughed and shook his head. “What gave me away?”

“Oh, it was the All-American thing you’ve got going here,” she answered smoothly. “It’s very telling.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Steve had an attitude about him that Natasha immediately liked. He was cocky in a subtle way, like--- like he had a big dick, but he wasn’t going to brag about it. “I actually met Tony through the military, way back when he was still funding weapons.”

Natasha nodded. “Right, Pepper said you were an army guy.” She paused, then continued to lighten the mood. “Not that we were talking about you or anything. That would be rude.”

At that moment, they were both called to line up for the entrance and Natasha gave him a little smirk as she wandered off to join Bruce again. Poor Bruce. He wasn’t used to having every eye on him, let alone every eye on him while he was awkwardly bopping along to the song Tony had picked out, regardless of the fact that Natasha was right there alongside him.

In any case, they made it through the little dance they were forced to do and headed over to the far side of the dance floor so they could watch as the other couples danced their way into the room. Rhodey decided to be daring and twirled Maria, who looked somewhere between amused and ready for murder, Clint and Laura did some stupid little dance while they held hands on the way in, and then… God, he could not possibly get any cuter. Wanda and Steve entered dancing awkwardly, but with huge smiles on their faces. Then as they got to a smooth part of the song, Wanda jumped up and Steve caught her in both arms, spinning her around before letting her down to continue their procession towards the group. It was alarmingly, ridiculously sweet and if Natasha hadn’t known any better, she might have said her baby-making instincts flared up. He looked so much like a father beside Wanda, who was only eighteen and full of the kind of childish glee Natasha admired in a person.

By the time the bride and groom came dancing into the room, Natasha was about fifty percent sure that she and Steve wouldn’t make it past the appetizers. As everyone gathered around for the bride and groom’s first dance as a married couple, Natasha slipped away from Bruce and moved around the back of the crowd until she could position herself beside Steve instead.

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear,_  
_And there's no one there to dry your tears,_  
_I could hold you for a million years_  
_To make you feel my love._

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet,_  
_But I will never do you wrong._  
_I've known it from the moment that we met,_  
_No doubt in my mind where you belong..._

“Hey there, soldier,” she quipped quietly, lightly nudging his arm. Wanda glanced at her from his other side, but she only smiled and politely kept her gaze straight ahead after that. “Nice moves before.”

Steve smiled and ducked his head. “Nah, it was all Wanda’s idea. I just did what she told me.”

“Oh, don’t be modest,” Natasha admonished, laying her hand on his arm and squeezing his bicep to make sure it wasn’t just the suit that made him look all solid and fit. “What do you think? Could you lift me up too?”

Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and briefly looked at the hand on his arm before turning a little more and giving Natasha another good look at how broad he actually was. “I know I could,” he said confidently. “Why? Do you want me to?”

Natasha smirked just as everyone was welcomed onto the floor to join Tony and Pepper for a few dances before the appetizers were served. “I think I want to dance,” she said teasingly. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I’d be stupid to say no.” Steve offered his hand and Natasha allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor, where they took a spot among the other couples and began an easy sway to the beat of the music. His hand was big and warm on the curve of her lower back and Natasha didn’t shy away from looking up at him even though he was glancing down at his feet every now and then.

After a while, her hand wandered down from his shoulders to rest on a surprisingly firm chest and Natasha shifted her position to really get close to him. She watched with some pride as his cheeks darkened and he lifted his head so he wasn’t actually caught staring at her chest. “You know,” she mused. “I just so happen to know someplace we could go and talk. Somewhere a little more private.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise and Natasha had to wonder if he really wasn't used to women coming onto him like this. “If you're interested, that is,” she added.

“No, I, uh--” He shook his head a little and stopped moving like he couldn't quite do both at the same time. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.”

Natasha smirked and stepped away, only holding onto Steve's hand as she led him off the floor, out of the room, and towards--- well, the bathroom. See, this was a really fancy place, which mean that the bathroom was bound to be exactly what they needed.

“The bathroom?” He questioned as they stopped outside. “Why--?”

“Shh.” Natasha pushed him gently against the wall right there and leaned up to press a searing kiss to his lips. And yes, they were just as soft, just as plump, just as good as she'd imagined so far. When she pulled back, he nearly followed her and she stopped him with two fingers against his lips. “Wait here.”

A second later, she disappeared into the bathroom and made sure it was empty so she could peek out the door again, grab his hand, drag him inside. Once the door was locked behind them, all bets were off. Natasha pressed Steve back against the wall and kissed him hard, pushing his jacket off and scratching blunt nails over his sides even through the material of his shirt. They didn't have time to really get undressed, but that was fine. There was always time for that later on if this went well- and Natasha had a feeling that it was going to go really well.

Sure enough, he surprised her by taking control and backing her up to the opposite wall, lifting her arms and pinning her wrists above her head. When their lips met again, Natasha made sure to bite playfully at his lower lip and moaned gratefully when he finally ducked down to let his lips wander over her neck and down to the tops of her heaving breasts. Once his hands released her wrists and went right to her waist, Natasha was about seven hundred percent sure she'd picked the right guy.

Bolstered by the fact that someone would eventually come looking for one of them, Natasha shoved him back and slid her hands under her own skirt, casually slipping out of her panties and holding them up by one finger for him to see- just to tease him. Steve groaned and she advanced, pushing him back to the plush sofa in the vanity section, which was entirely surrounded by mirrors. His hands tugged her skirt up around her thighs and Natasha straddled Steve without hesitation, sliding her arms over his shoulders to kiss him again, filthy and rushed as it was.

She was still holding the back of his head with one hand when her other hand slipped between them to cup him right through his pants. Steve was hard already and Natasha used her leverage to dig the heel of her hand against him and swallowed the moan it produced. Working fast, she leaned back only to get his pants open and pull his cock out-- and yeah, she took a second to look. Jackpot. Thank fuck for her good instincts. This was _exactly_ what she needed tonight.

Without even bothering to get his pants _down_ , Natasha scooted forward and lifted herself up, sinking down on his swollen cock a second later. Her fingers threaded into Steve's hair as he helped her keep her skirt up, fingertips digging into her hips at the same time. She covered his lips with her own even as she began to move, thighs working to keep her hips grinding down against him even as she scrambled for some kind of purchase as her feet, even in heels, didn't reach the floor.

Eventually, Steve straightened up a little and Natasha planted her knees on the cushion of the sofa for leverage while she continued rocking her hips. Their skin barely separated, his hips working to meet the way she was moving on top of him to create the most delicious friction, and Natasha soon found herself moaning again, head thrown back even as Steve leaned forward to kiss over the line of her exposed throat.

It was with a surprised yelp from Natasha that Steve lifted her up, pulling out of her and shoving her none too gently over the back of the sofa instead. The skirt of her dress was shoved up and out of the way, and Steve was slamming home not five seconds later, pulling a strangled groan from Natasha as her nails bit into the velvet beneath her and she started a hard pace she never would have expected from him in a million years.

It was only then that she noticed the benefit of the mirrors around them and the fact that she could not only see Steve's face as he let his head fall back in pleasure, plump lips parted in ecstasy, but also the movement of his hips and the way he was disappearing inside her. It made everything _a lot_ better even if her hair was a little messed up. Someone was sure to know what they were up to-- but that was exciting too. As their skin slapped together and Steve's movements grew just a little more insistent, Natasha started slipping a hand under her to get the job done, but Steve beat her to and and pinned her hands to the sofa instead. Fuck. What? “Steve-- Fuck, let me come,” she panted, spreading her legs a little wider to welcome the absolutely sinful fucking her was giving her.

“Not yet,” he grunted back, using his grip over her hands for leverage to pick up the pace just a little more and God, she was so close, so fucking close and he wasn't letting her get what she needed! Natasha was still trying to rock her hips into his thrusts and get the friction she needed when Steve came, quickly pulling out and releasing over the backs of her thighs instead.

She was going to kill him, or maybe someone else so she could come back for more because like it or not, regardless of this most recent and completely dickhead move, he really did have a nice cock and---

“Holyshit.”

Steve had dropped to his knees without her even realizing it, taking hold of her hips, and buried his face right between her legs. Natasha's thighs clenched tight and she had no choice but to arch her back as he pressed his tongue into her, teasing for an agonizing few moments before finally seeing to her clit and bringing her crashing over the edge. She came with a cry, shivering hard as she wrenched herself away from him and turned over on the couch to recover.

He joined her with a huff, his cock still hanging almost comically out of his pants, and Natasha smiled lazily, leaning her head back even as her body suffered the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Boy, am I glad you got to replace Thor,” she breathed, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. “Well done, soldier. You'd get a medal if I had one.”

Steve smiled and shook his head at her even as he moved to tuck himself back into his pants. “I've got enough medals to last me a lifetime,” he quipped, standing up and moving to the sink to wash his hands and, Natasha noticed, his face as well.

Natasha stood up to join him, readjusting her dress and grabbing her discarded panties on her way over to the sinks. “Then consider this a promise for later,” she said smoothly, leaning up to whisper huskily into his ear even as she pressed her panties into his pocket as a reminder. “Go ahead and get back out there. I'll be out in a few minutes.”

Steve smirked and not for the first time, Natasha could seek that he was blushing a little bit, just over the apples of his cheeks. “See you out there,” he told her, lightly sliding his hand down her arm and squeezing her hand for a moment before getting out of there.

Natasha watched him go for a moment before cleaning herself up and waiting a careful three minutes before heading out as well. She had thought that she would just slip back into the hall in time for appetizers (hopefully), but-- what she found instead was a pretty startled Steve staring up at Thor, who looked like he was giving Steve one hell of a lecture. “What's going on?” She asked as she approached, raising an eyebrow at Thor.

“What's going on is that I found---” Thor realized it was Natasha a moment too late and smiled widely, leaning down for a big hug. “Natasha! It's so good to see you. You look beautiful!”

Smiling up at him, Natasha returned the compliment and glanced at Steve for a moment. “This is Steve, by the way,” she introduced. “He took your place in the ceremony when you couldn't make it. Steve, this is Thor.”

Steve extended his hand, but Thor only glared down at Steve. “Don't presume to think that I'll take your hand after what I've seen you doing, _Steve_. Peeping in the women's bathroom is absolutely _deplorable_ and I, for one, will not stand for it.” He poked Steve's chest and the soldier backed up, hands raised in surrender.

“Thor!” Natasha admonished quickly, putting a hand between them. “Did you not see where I came from just now?”

The taller man frowned, then glanced at the bathroom door, then back to Natasha, and finally to Steve while realization blossomed over his face. “Oh.” Reaching out, he clapped Steve's shoulder a little harder than necessary and nodded in understanding. “My apologies,” he offered. “Carry on. I believe they're beginning to serve appetizers.”

Natasha shook her head at him in amusement and led Steve back into the reception hall. It was a little awkward, but they were both sitting at the same table anyway, so they headed over. Unfortunately, the way the seats wound up was that Natasha's seat was still next to Bruce, and Steve was next to Wanda. Not a tragedy, but not ideal. Bruce was good company, though, and they chatted all the way through their appetizers of scallops and salad, respectively. Natasha found herself glancing up every now and then to find Wanda and Steve talking amiably, and she even caught him making Wanda laugh, which was just really nice to see for some reason. Maybe that was because Wanda, like Natasha, had some difficulty forming interpersonal connections.

When the music started up again, Bruce begged off dancing and Natasha got up along with pretty much everyone else to head out onto the floor. She did feel bad for leaving him there, though, and eventually hinted to a pretty brunette she knew from SI that Dr. Banner was all alone at their table... Sure enough, she blushed and headed over to talk to him for a while and Natasha was satisfied.

“Hey.”

The voice sounded over Natasha's shoulder and she nearly swung around and clocked the guy, but realized it was Steve just in time to save him. “Hey,” she answered, unable to resist giving him a little smirk. “Nice to see you back so soon.”

Steve chuckled a little at her deadpan humor and gestured to the people already dancing. “Do you want to dance? I'm even worse when the music's upbeat, but I'll try not to crush your feet.”

Natasha smiled and agreed, moving right onto the floor to dance with him. Steve was, to put it kindly, just about as stiff as one person could be. He was trying so hard to dance _correctly_ that he wound up kind of awkwardly bopping along to the music and moving his hips when he remembered to. How was it that one man could be so cute _and_ tempting? Because Natasha knew some of what he had on under that suit and she already couldn't wait to get him naked.

Taking control, she grabbed his hands as a different song started and coaxed him into a clumsy dance, guiding him into spinning her around and tugging her close. It was... different. Natasha had hooked up with people before obviously, and it was always so hot and lustful and filthy, just like their little encounter earlier. But this? This was so sweet that it was throwing her off a little bit. Of course, then Steve quickly managed to dip her and he _laughed_ and his whole face just lit up so much that she had to laugh too. Now, maybe she wasn't one for the kind of romance Tony and Pepper had, or even what Clint and Laura were lucky enough to find, but Natasha decided that she could have this for tonight. He didn't know anything about her, she didn't know much about him... It was perfect.

Eventually, they cleared the dance floor and Tony and Pepper took the microphone to thank their amazing best man and their beautiful maid of honor before inviting them onto the floor for a special dance. Natasha supposed that they were taking the place of what would have been a father/daughter dance and so forth. Neither Pepper nor Tony had their parents any longer, and it had always been the group of them. This made sense. Bruce happily took Pepper's hand and Natasha let Tony spin her around as they got onto the floor for their little song.

_You can count on me like_  
_One, two, three,_  
_I'll be there._  
_And I know when I need it,_  
_I can count on you like_  
_Four, three, two,_  
_Cause that's what friends are s'posed to do, oh yeah..._

“Are you having fun?” She asked Tony, easily keeping up with him even as he changed things up every once in a while. “Not upset about saying goodbye to that bachelor status?” They didn't always get along and there was a lot of biting remarks between the two of them on a daily basis, but there was a lot of affection behind them. Natasha was actually really proud to see Tony looking so happy. God knows he deserved it.

He nodded and shook his head, still unable to stop smiling. “I'm not sure I've ever been this happy,” he admitted, glancing over to Pepper even now as she laughed at something Bruce said. “I mean, look at her. Look how beautiful she is. How the fuck did I get this lucky?”

Natasha smiled and they danced until the end of the song, at which point everyone was told that the main course would be served and to return to their tables. Bruce kissed Pepper on the cheek and Tony did the same for Natasha before the happy couple walked hand in hand towards a few of the other tables to say hello to everyone. Natasha made a mental note to make sure they actually got to eat before the dancing started all over again.

It was while the main courses were being served that Bruce forced himself up and the frontman for the band brought everyone's attention to him. The poor guy looked like he might faint from the pressure, but he was going to push through if it killed him.

“Hello, everyone,” he started, shifting from foot to foot. “I've, uh... I've never been much of a romantic myself. I think anyone who knows me can vouch for that. As a scientist, I know that 'love' is really just a chemical reaction in the brain and that the idea of a soulmates is ridiculous and anti-evolutionary. But Pepper and Tony manage to challenge all my beliefs on a daily basis because I have never seen two people more perfect for one another. It's not just on a grand scale, though. It's in everything they do for one another, like how Tony will make sure that Pepper's favorite ice cream is _always_ in the freezer, or how Pepper reminds Tony to stop working because he needs a break. It's the fact that they can have a whole conversation without letting an onlooker know what it is they're actually talking about.” That got a laugh because everyone knew Pepper and Tony had this way of speaking in looks and half formed words that not even top level codebreakers would be able to understand. “What I'm trying to say is that these two people are without a doubt perfect for each other. If nothing else, they've made me believe in love in a way I just didn't before and I wish them so, so many years of love and happiness to come. I love you both, and congratulations.”

He smiled and lifted his glass with everyone else, taking a sip as he sat down just in time for Tony to come and envelop him in a big hug for everyone to see. After that, pretty much everyone turned their attention to their entrees. Natasha had chosen the filet mignon as she was never one to pass up a piece of meat like that, and Bruce dug right into his Chilean sea bass with gusto. The poor guy was probably pissing himself after that speech.

Mid-meal, Natasha glanced up and found Steve staring right at her. The second their eyes met, he ducked his head and looked away, which only managed to make Natasha smile and Wanda giggle behind her hand. The redhead watched as Wanda nudged Steve's arm and he peeked up again, his cheeks visibly darkened. What a cutie. Natasha was glad to have him for a night, if that was all she could have. After all, he probably wouldn't want to go any further than one night of several rounds of _very_ good sex.

Just to tease him, Natasha winked and she was pretty sure that the tips of Steve's ears turned red, much to Wanda's amusement. Was that really the same guy who'd dropped to his knees to get her off just a short time ago? Apparently so, because when she licked her lips and took a sip of champagne, she saw him swallow and take a deep breath in before shrugging out of his jacket like he was preparing for whatever came later. Yeah, same guy. Cutie with a... penchant for rough bathroom sex with strangers. Just her type.

“Alright, I'd like to invite Mr. and Mrs. Stark up to the center of the dance floor. We're going to get that garter.” The announcement was met with a few hoots and some laughter as Tony led Pepper up to the dance floor, where she sat down on a chair in the center as they played some sleazy music. It was just a tradition- and one that Pepper wanted to observe even if she found it a little cliché.

Tony got down on his knees and made a show of sliding his hands up her leg, tickling Pepper enough that she nearly kicked him and laughed as he finally got it off, raising his hand to twirl it over his head for the crowd gathered around the dance floor. “Now, let's get all the single ladies up on the dance floor for the bouquet toss!”

Natasha groaned a little, but she got onto the dance floor with a small group of women including Wanda, Maria, and a few other women Natasha wasn’t so familiar with. It wasn’t very important to her to get the bouquet, but she wasn’t going to be the curmudgeon that ruined this for her friend. And so, she got into position and waited for Pepper to point _straight at her_ before turning and tossing the bouquet right over her head.

To everyone’s surprise, including Natasha’s, the bouquet went right to her just as Pepper had intended it. She had the bouquet in hand all of a sudden and held it up victoriously for everyone to see. They cheered, and the frontman got back on the microphone right away. “Alright, we’ve got one lucky lady. Now we’ve got to find her a man!”

The single guys trudged up to the dance floor and Natasha felt like she was on display standing off to the side with the flowers in hand. She smiled, though, especially as Tony dragged Bruce up to the dance floor by force before taking Pepper’s position at the edge. Obviously without a plan, he faked them out twice before finally letting the damn thing soar. And Natasha watched with her mouth _agape_ as Steve not only jumped for the goddamn garter, but practically knocked everyone else out of the way for it.

Well. At least she wasn’t the only one who had enjoyed their little tryst earlier.

“And there you have it, folks! Now, let’s make sure that garter’s on nice and high!”

Natasha sat down in the center of the room and gave Steve a look as he knelt down in front of her. “Don’t tell me you’re getting possessive already,” she quipped in a low voice, lifting her right leg so he could slip the garter over her shoe. “That was quite a catch.”

“Well, can you blame a guy?” He countered, already sliding his hand up her calf as the crowd around them cheered and whistled. “ _You’re_ quite a catch.”

It was such a cheesy line. He was so fucking _lame_ and she was smiling anyway, even laughing a little bit when his fingertips brushed over the inside of her knee. The crowd started the chant—‘Higher! Higher! Higher!’—and Natasha just pressed her lips together in a little smile as Steve slowly inched the garter up over her knee and onto her thigh, continuing on until she laughed and pushed him away, much to the amusement of the crowd. What the crowd didn't have to know was that he'd brushed over her inner thigh with intent clear in his eyes; intent that made her heart beat a little faster.

Clearly feeling more confident of himself, Steve eagerly took Natasha's hand as the music started up again and while he still wasn't a very good dancer, he made up for it in charm and enthusiasm. They wound up doing a silly tango at some point and he dipped her low to the point where Natasha let her head fall back dramatically. And when he pulled her back up, she actually laughed, nearly astounded by how much fun she was having.

By the time he’d coaxed her into trying some very uncoordinated swing dancing, Natasha was having so much fun that she nearly forgot she was supposed to be celebrating true love and all that nonsense. Several more drinks later, Natasha couldn’t care less about the actual reason why she was draped over Steve or how many people saw her whispering into his ear before they both started laughing. Loosened up and clearly having fun, Natasha even went so far as to give in to his request for a slow dance. She draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned in close so they could talk a little bit. After all, a part of her did want to at least get to know the guy she’d be taking home that night.

“So, how is it that a guy like you doesn’t have a girlfriend? You look like the settling type.”

Steve smiled. “Oh, I do have a girlfriend,” he answered teasingly. “And a wife. I thought you knew.”

When Natasha rolled her eyes at him, he continued on with an actual answer. “I went into the army when I was twenty,” he explained. “And I was either in training or overseas for six years after that. It’s a little hard to find time to be with a woman when… well, when you’re surrounded by fifty other men at all times.”

“Oh, but that brings about so many other opportunities,” she quipped.

To her surprise, Steve shrugged a little. “Maybe it does,” he countered. “But I still haven’t found _the one_.”

Natasha fought back the urge to make a face. So he was one of _those_ people, and definitely not the sort that would look at Natasha and see a budding relationship. “The way I see it… waiting around just means that you could spend most of your life hoping someone you’re meant to spend it with comes along. What if they don’t? What if you spend your whole life thinking you’re going to find a perfect match when you were really supposed to just have fun and enjoy the moment?”

Steve watched her for a long moment before nodding thoughtfully. “You’ve got a point there,” he said sincerely. “Good thing I’m looking to have fun right now. It’s good for the soul.”

Ah, that was better. Natasha smirked and let one hand wander down over his chest so she could feel his solid pec just under her palm. “I happen to be a lot of fun,” she told him rather suggestively. “But you already know that.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed again and Natasha only squeezed his pec before getting comfortable again as they swayed back and forth. Soon enough, the music was cut and everyone was asked to gather around the cake. Natasha allowed Steve to keep an arm around her waist and raised her eyebrows when, after Tony and Pepper had shoved cake at each other, his hand slipped right down to her ass. Bold. Very bold.

She smirked and leaned into him, even tipping her head back a little bit to brush her lips over his jaw. “How indecent,” she teased. “Don’t you know I’m a lady?”

“Too much of a lady to come home with me tonight?” He countered, leaning down to kiss her shoulder in return. It was an awful lot of familiarity for two people who had literally met for the first time a few hours ago, but Natasha thought it suited him. And if they went to his place, she could leave in the morning without that awkward ‘okay-that-was-fun-now-get-out’ problem.

“Well,” she mused, pretending to think about it for a few seconds. “I guess that could be arranged. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve smiled at the answer, but he leaned down again to speak into her ear just as the music started back up. “That’s ‘Captain’ Rogers, ma’am,” he corrected with a breathy laugh.

Oh, was it? Captain. _Captain_ Rogers. Captain Steve! Natasha found that she liked it very much.

“Alright, Captain,” she answered, turning around to face him properly. “One more round on the dance floor and I’m all yours.”

By then, pretty much everyone had enjoyed quite a few drinks and the dancing was everything from silly and spontaneous to lazy and sloppy to very… _intimate_. Natasha found herself pressed right up against Steve’s front as he tried to negotiate the rhythm of the song and despite not really getting it, he did manage to rock his hips against hers a few times, and even let his hands rest just above the swell of her ass as he kept her close. As the song shifted to something a little more suggestive, she turned around and planted herself back against him, thoroughly enjoying his big hand resting on her lower belly and the way his breath hitched when she really pressed her ass back.

It was a dance before the last one anyway, so Natasha grabbed his hand and dragged Steve over to where Pepper was taking a break at the table. “Don’t get too tired,” she warned. “You’ve got a big night ahead of you.”

“Oh, sure. If someone can function after all the alcohol he’s had.” She cocked her head to where Tony was eagerly doing a shot with a hesitant Bruce at the bar. “Are you—leaving?”

Natasha smirked a little and nodded. “I am,” she confirmed. “This was so much fun. You did a great job, you know. People will be talking about this for ages.”

Everything Pepper wanted to hear. “Oh, wait, wait! I want at least one of the two of us,” she said quickly, signaling one of the photographers over and posing with Natasha for a picture that would no doubt go in the album. “Thank you for all your help.” Pepper kissed Natasha on the cheek, then pulled Steve over for the same before letting them go.

Arm in arm, Natasha and Steve made their way outside, hailed a cab off the street, and piled somewhat drunkenly into the backseat. Steve gave his address and Natasha claimed his lips one second later, playfully nipping at his lower lip and getting a soft growl in response. The cab ride passed quickly with Steve’s hands groping her ass and his lips quickly becoming one of her absolute favorite parts of him in general. Eventually, he paid the driver with a couple of crisp bills from his wallet and led Natasha into a simple apartment building, hitting the button for the elevator right away.

It wasn’t actually until the elevator doors closed that Natasha realized what a great night she was in for with this guy. Steve pressed her right up against the wall without any sort of hesitation at all and she wondered as he dragged his lips over her throat if _this_ was where he excelled? Because he wasn’t a good dancer and he was kind of an awkward flirt, but this was just… amazing. Just like earlier in the bathroom.

When he took her wrists and pinned them over her head, Natasha’s back arched to press against him and she moaned out loud, letting her head fall back while he mouthed over her collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts. It felt good, but the second he let go of her hands in favor of squeezing her ass again, she lifted his head up to claim his lips. They stumbled out into the hallway together and Steve grabbed his keys, swearing into her mouth as he tried to get the door open without looking.

Eventually the door opened and they headed in while Natasha began shoving Steve’s jacket off, eager to see all she hadn’t been able to see before. It hit the floor with all the grace of Steve on the dance floor and she sealed their mouths together as she quickly kicked her heels off and dropped her clutch before quickly making work of his tie, his vest---

“Fuck. Buttons.” Growling to herself, she broke the kiss and looked down while her nimble fingers undid all relevant buttons until she was sliding his shirt off and just staring for a second.

Steve wasn't just fit. He wasn't just... okay. He was _gorgeous_ ; gorgeous with pecs that filled her hands when she cupped them and abs that were so defined, she could count them on the way down without even looking. Holy shit. And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that his biceps were rock hard with this little line of muscle just under the skin that she seriously wanted to sink her teeth into.

Wait, why couldn't she? They were in his room already, so why not? Hands still on his pecs, Natasha shoved Steve back onto the bed and reached back to unzip her dress under his hungry gaze. It fell to the floor in one smooth movement and then she was crawling over him in her bra and panties, 'pinning' his hands down so she could seal her mouth over one impossibly tempting nipple. Steve let out a surprised sound and his back arched a little bit, but she didn't let up. Natasha teased each nipple in turn, coaxing them into hard nubs and lightly scratching her nails over his abs. The guy was a work of art, okay? She was going to enjoy this.

With Steve panting above her, moved down until she could work on the button (another fucking button) and zipper on his pants before tugging them down with little to do and even less hesitation. It was really a shame she didn't know him well enough for some kind of arrangement after this, but Steve didn't seem the type anyway. Pushing that aside, Natasha nipped harshly at the deep line of muscle near his right hip and mouthed along the side of his cock--which she was happy to find was just as hard as the rest of him.

Smirking a little when his hips twitched up, Natasha pulled back and wrapped one hand around him for a few smooth strokes, her thumb rubbing over the slit at the top while she looked up at him. “Would it be completely out of line to ask you to fuck me against that wall?” She indicated the wall to the side, where there was this nice, big, empty space.

She could have sworn Steve's eyes went completely black. “No, that's-- that's not outta line.”

There was a little accent coming through and it only served to make Natasha even more turned on than before. “Good,” she said easily, but as he sat up to presumably get that going, she pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his cock and slowly slid her mouth down, taking as much as she could down her throat and earning a choked moan from Steve.

He was hot and thick and Natasha's eyes flashed up to watch him as she pulled back up and started a slow rhythm, not shying away at all from showing him how much she liked it. There weren't many aspects of good sex that she didn't like- but there was something special about taking a man apart like this, where she felt she had all the power in the world.

Soon enough, Steve's big hand came to rest on the back of her head and Natasha reminded herself to actually let her hair out so she didn't look like a bridesmaid barbie doll anymore. She continued until he was starting to really grip the sheets with his other hand, at which point she pulled off with a soft pop and licked her lips. Sitting up, she quickly removed the pins from her hair and it fell in soft waves around her shoulders. But it didn't end there. Without pause, she twisted her arms back to unhook her own bra, letting it fall and tossing it away in favor of crawling up to properly straddle her catch for the--- Steve. To straddle Steve.

Now, a lot of men didn't particularly like being kissed after a blowjob, but Steve went right for it before Natasha could even find out for herself. He sat up and sealed their lips together, parting his lips and coaxing hers open while his hand slid into her hair at the base of her skull. Natasha immediately slid her hands over his shoulders and squeezed her thighs, grinding her hips down with clear intent. And it wasn't really fair to tease him any longer, was it?

Not that she didn't want the exact same thing, of course.

Steve seemed to agree, and he used his hold on her to flip their positions so Natasha was on her back and he was effectively hovering over her, ducking his head down to trail warm kisses over the slope of her neck again. This time, he found a little spot behind her ear that made her shiver from head to toe and all of a sudden, Natasha was very eager to move on. Moaning into his ear, she lightly scratched her fingers through his hair and over his scalp, arching her back again as his hips rolled against hers-- with her damn panties in the way.

It was a problem for exactly ten more seconds, until the moment when Steve slid his big, rough hands down to her hips and peeled her little red panties right off. And then, because apparently Steve was a very literal person, Natasha was being lifted right off the bed with his hands under her ass and wrapped her arms around his neck for stability just before she was shoved against the wall hard enough to pull another groan from somewhere deep, deep inside her. “Fuck, yes,” she praised, wrapping her legs tight around his waist.

This time, he was able to take control and press himself right into her, filling her in no time at all. Natasha let her head fall back and her thighs trembled already, echoing the ragged breath that left her as Steve dragged his lips over her jaw. “Steve.” All she had to do was say his name and it was like she'd given a command. His hips pulled back and snapped forward, slamming into her like divine providence. From there, he picked up this _delicious_ rhythm, his hands keeping her spread open as he mercilessly kept up his thrusts.

At some point, she was being lifted up again and they landed on the bed together. Her legs spread easy and from there, Steve braced himself on his knees to renew his pace, even leaning back at some point to pull her hips against his while her back arched into it. He looked so good there, muscles moving and tightening as his lips parted and his head fell back in ecstasy, his hands dwarfing her tiny waist.

After that, it didn't take long. Natasha reached down to touch herself for a few moments and came with a short cry, her free hand reaching up for the back of Steve's head to drag him in close to her. His hips slowed a little bit, which she was thankful for, but quickly built up again as he chased his own release. And it came in spades. Steve managed to pull out just in time and Natasha only murmured three words-- “Come on me.”--before he just let go. She watched him stroke himself to completion, finally painting her belly with a few strands of white and shivering as he made sure he'd gotten it all.

With that, he fell to the bed beside her and Natasha smiled wistfully up at the ceiling. Such a good night. She'd have to remember to tell Pepper exactly how satisfying she'd found the, uh.. the wedding. “I don't know about you,” Steve breathed, turning onto his side and throwing an arm over Natasha's waist. “But I'm exhausted.”

Natasha laughed and turned her head to offer him another kiss. “I'm pretty beat myself,” she answered. “But first, where's your bathroom?”

Steve pointed her off in the right direction and Natasha padded naked out of the room to take care of business, and clean up the remnants of his release on her belly. Maybe she took a second to notice that all his towels were perfectly arranged. Once she'd fluffed her hair a little bit and found some mouthwash to take advantage of, she splashed some cold water on her face and returned to find Steve laying on his back in a room only lit up by the moon outside his window.

She hesitated for a second before climbing in beside him and turning her back to Steve- at which point he crowded up behind her and put his arm back around her waist. Maybe Natasha wasn't the type to have that one true love and family thing like he'd been talking about, but she could enjoy this.

Until the early hours of the morning, at least. Natasha woke up with a slight pounding in her head and slipped out of bed, quickly grabbing one of his t-shirts so she didn't have to go home in a gown, even if she still looked kind of ridiculous. It wouldn't be the first nor the last time she did the walk of shame, although she did arrange for an uber rather than attempting the train at this hour, with her panties bunched up in her bag and a dress hanging over her arm.

She'd also left a note for him--

_Steve,_

_Had lots of fun. Stole a shirt. See you at the next wedding. Until then, hit me up anytime._

The fact that she'd left him her number was kind of huge, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't call. If Pepper was to be believed, he'd just recently gotten back from being deployed and he was probably looking for the same thing Natasha was; some kind of connection, stress relief, a distraction. In Natasha's case, she looked for someone to enjoy for a short time before she went back to the real world. Regardless, she'd be happy to hear from him assuming he didn't want an actual date and if she didn't hear from him, then there was always an opportunity for more fun the next time their group of friends forced them both to attend the same event.

 

_Six Months Later..._

Natasha got the invitation on a Tuesday.

Wanda was the flighty sort sometimes, but even Natasha hadn't expected her to meet, date, fall in love with, and _marry_ a guy this soon. Vision-- yeah, his parents were kind of strange-- had been one of the many attendees of Tony and Pepper's wedding. He was a little older than her, but they'd apparently hit it off that night and had been dating ever since. According to Pepper, who had run into Wanda at the salon about two months before this bombshell dropped, she looked happier than ever, especially since she'd lost her brother.

Well, hey. Natasha was happy for her even if she would never get married this quickly, if at all. And she immediately checked off the 'will attend' box, stuffing the card back into the enclosed envelope and setting it aside to mail on her way to work the next day.

The next morning, she dropped it into the nearest mailbox and grabbed a cup of coffee on her way to work, like most mornings. She was actually just getting into her office when her phone vibrated and she set her things down to pull it out.

The message that lit up her screen from an unknown number didn't need any explanation at all. In fact, Natasha thought it was funny. She thought it was hysterical because six months down the line after _one night_ together, they were both thinking the same thing.

_Can't wait for Wanda's wedding. See you there?_

Well. Natasha smirked to herself as she slid into her chair and typed out the simplest message she could. There was only one way to answer that question, only one way to let him know in the most subtle way that she was looking forward to seeing him again. Hitting send, she set her phone down and got to work with a smile on his face. Wanda's wedding was in six weeks, and Natasha couldn't wait to be there.

_You bet._

 

 

 


	2. Wanda and Vision

Waking up to an empty bed after spending the night with someone was never a good sign. At first, Steve thought maybe Natasha had just gone to the bathroom or wandered into the kitchen to find coffee, but a quick sweep of the apartment proved that she was gone. He found her note on the kitchen counter and it pulled a small smile from him even though he really didn’t know what he was doing here. He wasn’t the type to have one night stands and it left him feeling cheap right up until the moment he realized that the fact that she’d left didn’t make the connection between them any less real.

With all that said, he wasn’t going to call her. And he wasn’t going to call her not because he didn’t _want_ to, but because it really wasn’t fair to get into a relationship with someone when he had so many problems to work on in his own life. Natasha hadn’t signed on to deal with nightmares or PTSD or the fact that Steve was still in therapy to deal with his losses and what he’d been through. She’d signed on for a fun night, perhaps to compensate for the fact that she was alone. It was a harsh truth, but Steve understood it very well.

Over the next six months, Steve made one hell of an effort to get past this perpetual state of depression he seemed to have sunk into. He got up for a run every single morning, rain or shine. He cooked himself a real breakfast and ate while he read the paper. He attended every therapy session, went to the gym five days a week, and eventually procured a part time position at a local youth center, where he worked with younger children on various types of arts and crafts. The nightmares were still coming, but it wasn’t every night and Steve hadn’t fallen into a pit of despair recently, so he counted that as a win.

He was just getting back from a session with his therapist when the mail arrived containing the invitation to Wanda’s garden wedding. She was a sweet kid, and he was actually kind of touched that she’d invited him at all. But they had vaguely kept in touch and he’d been out to lunch with her a few times, so he supposed it was appropriate. He was still thanking God that the dress was more casual than black tie when he realized that Natasha would likely be there too.

That note she’d left for him spoke volumes. ‘See you at the next wedding’, she’d written.

Well, Steve wouldn’t miss it for the world. He checked off ‘will attend’ and sent back the RSVP ASAP.

On the day of the wedding, Steve stood in front of his mirror and told himself that he was going to be normal. He wasn’t going to make this awkward, and he wasn’t going to make Natasha feel uncomfortable—especially if she hadn’t meant anything by that note. Maybe she just meant it in a normal way, not a flirtatious way. He wasn’t going into this wedding expecting anything at all.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t happily participate if she _was_ flirting with him...

Six months ago.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Steve sighed and told himself to just get a grip. It wasn’t like they were under some sacred obligation here. They’d slept together on—twice, and that was all. There was no obligation here for anything to go any further. With that said, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping to see her in the same capacity that night.

Now, the dress was nice, but casual. Wanda and Vision had elected to marry in a garden overflowing with the fresh, fall foliage adorning the city right now. It would be a simple ceremony, followed by a simple reception. Steve thrived on simple. He chose to wear a blue button down and a pair of slacks, choosing a darker blue for his tie and a sport coat at the last second to pull it together before heading out.

When he arrived, he wandered over to Tony and Pepper first, where he fell into comfortable conversation even as Rhodey, Bruce, and Thor joined them. But when he caught sight of Natasha entering the garden with a shorter woman in tow, everything kind of stopped. God, she looked… incredible. Somehow she looked even better than she had six months ago, which Steve found a little jarring considering he’d already had this perfect vision of her in his head.

Natasha had her hair down. It was in the same soft waves he remembered, though perhaps a little more carefully styled than it had been in bed that one night. She was wearing a dark purple dress with cap sleeves and a little black belt that nipped in at her waist. The hem brushed just above her knees when she walked, and she’d topped the outfit off with a black wrap and a pair of black heels because apparently she wanted to kill him. Not that he’d ever assume she dressed with him in mind.

He excused himself from the group right away, completely missing the way Pepper whispered something and made Tony smile in their direction. Of course, it was when he got to Natasha that he realized he had an audience in the form of the girl she’d walked in with. “Hey,” he greeted anyway. “It’s good to see you.”

Natasha smiled and gave him a knowing look. “It’s good to see you too.”

The woman beside Natasha cleared her throat and the redhead laughed a little. “Steve, this is Darcy, a friend of mine from work. Darcy, this is Steve, who… I know from Pepper’s wedding.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows and turned to Natasha, mumbling something and getting a nod in response. “Oh. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve,” she said, giving him a firm handshake. “Are you here as a guest or entertainment…?”

Natasha laughed out loud at that comment, plus the bewildered look on Steve’s face. “Don’t mind her,” she said. “Darcy’s got no filter, and that’s her way of giving you a compliment.”

Steve smiled. “Oh. Well, thank you,” he offered. “Can I escort you ladies to your seats?”

They exchanged a look and each woman took one arm so he could lead them down to where the seating was all set up. Natasha took one seat, Steve sat beside her, and Darcy sat down on his other side, boldly reaching out to poke at his stomach. “Woah,” she commented. “Are you made of marble or something?”

Steve laughed a little, but he didn’t bother batting her hand away. It didn’t bother him in the slightest, to be honest. “Not that I know of,” he answered. “Last I checked I was just an ordinary guy.”

“No one described by this girl—“ She pointed past him to where Natasha was pressing her lips together in what looked like disapproval, or possibly horror. “--As ‘fantastic’ in bed gets to call himself ordinary. Shit doesn’t work that way.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and turned to give Natasha a somewhat smug look. “I’m fantastic in bed?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t go getting a big head or anything—“

“From what I hear, he’s already got a big ‘head’.”

Darcy’s comment made Steve’s cheeks flush a little bit, and he ducked his head because this could not be happening. He definitely wasn’t sitting between two women who had clearly discussed not only his sexual prowess, but his dick… in depth. “So women really do talk about this stuff,” he mumbled. “Good to know. You think someone can actually die from embarrassment?”

Both women laughed and thankfully, their conversation had to end now that everyone was being told to take their seats. The groom took his place at the front and Steve smiled because he looked really happy. He was definitely older; there were little patches of grey at his temples and wisdom in the lines around his eyes, but the second they stood and Wanda showed herself, Vision looked twenty years younger, like he’d never seen something so beautiful.

Wanda’s dress was more of an off-white, ivory color. She wore her long hair down in loose waves and sported a crown made of muted white and red flowers as a circlet. Her gown was made of light, gossamer material that shifted in the light breeze and trailed behind her. She wasn’t even wearing shoes, preferring the soft grass underneath bare feet. Steve thought she looked like some kind of fairy or pixie or something and by the time she took Vision’s hands, he was pretty sure they were perfect together.

They wrote their own vows and Steve could have sworn that Thor was sniffling to himself just two rows up. It really was very sweet; promises to love one another until the end of time, memories of when they first met and how fast and scary it was to fall in love the way they had. Steve idly wondered if he’d ever get up and make promises like that to anyone.

When it was all over, they kissed and nearly skipped back down the aisle together. Wanda even threw her bouquet without much warning at all and who should catch it but Natasha! Looking amused, she turned to look up and Steve and smirked. “How is it that we keep ending up like this?”

Steve shrugged a little, but he looked no less amused by it- especially considering Natasha didn’t seem like the type to even think about actually getting married. “Beats me,” he said easily. “But I can’t say I actually mind it.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and nudged him a little bit, but it was Darcy who spoke up and pointed out the obvious. “You two look so cute together,” she said, tilting her head to the side with a teasing smile. “I can practically hear the wedding bells.”

There was just something about the way Natasha immediately answered her. “Uh, no,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

Oh. Was he not good enough to marry or something? Because while Steve wasn’t exactly raring to go on the marriage front, it was a little… insulting to hear that she didn’t think he was marriage material or whatever. “What? You mean you _don’t_ want to marry someone you’ve literally only met one other time?”

Natasha peered up at him and shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to get married at all.”

Steve would readily admit that he had pictured himself getting married at one time or another, but looking into Natasha’s eyes and watching her smirk at him like she knew _exactly_ what they’d be doing later on… Well, who needed marriage anyway? Getting married was probably overrated.

“Good thing I’m not asking,” he countered. “I guess I might as well ask if I can escort you guys to the restaurant, though. We can take a cab on me if your shoes--- hurt.”

Darcy shook her head a little and reached out to pat his arm. “Oh, hun. We can probably run in these better than you can run in your shoes.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, offering one arm to each woman again so he could walk them over to the reception, which was being held in a cozy restaurant not two blocks from the garden itself. “Shall we?”

Natasha took his left arm and Darcy took his right so they could head out. “So,” Darcy piped up. “Natasha knows shockingly little about you considering your history. Care to fill in a few blanks?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. It could have been worse, right? She could have asked about his dick again. “Uh, sure. What do you want to know?”

“Oh, just the basics. Where are you from? What do you do? Were you ever convicted of a felony? That sort of thing.”

“Is this a job interview or a friendly chat?”

Darcy hummed for a moment. “Both,” she answered. “Definitely both.”

“Alright, well…” Steve sighed. “I’m ex-military and I live partially off my pension, but I’m also doing some freelance work as an illustrator. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, and… no, I’ve never been convicted of a felony.”

“You live off your pension?” Natasha asked, her brows creased a little. “Why?”

Steve heard that as a question asking exactly what was wrong with him. He was young and fit and healthy, so why didn’t he have a job? It was a valid question, he supposed, but he wasn’t going to get into detail with two ‘strangers’, and he wasn’t going to embarrass himself in front of Natasha. “I just need a little time to get back on my feet,” he said easily. “The freelance work is pretty good.”

Darcy huffed a little, but Natasha only seemed more interested. It was almost like she knew that he wasn’t telling them the whole truth. Still, it was Darcy who spoke up again. “Did you see any action?”

Steve blinked. She really was a bold one, asking that without knowing him for very long at all. “I did,” he confirmed. “I was stationed in Iraq for most of my time. I’ve even got a battle scars.” No reason not to make light of it. Steve wasn’t so shy about his injuries, just the emotional and mental side effects of what he’d been through.

“You do?” Darcy gushed. “Oh, I want to see them.”

“Do you want me to strip right here, or..?”

“Oh, I’ll wait until we get inside. There should be plenty of room in there.”

She was joking. Right? Well, either way, Steve would find out in a minute or two. They arrived at the restaurant and headed in, scoping out a position somewhere in the corner of the room to wait for the bride and groom to arrive. A waiter came by to get their drink orders and Steve watched in amusement as Natasha ordered the same thing she had last time; vodka martini. Darcy ordered something fruity and he chose whiskey, which was an old standby.

“So,” Darcy said after a moment. “Where’s that battle scar we were talking about?”

Apparently Darcy hadn’t been joking. “I have a couple, but you're only getting one,” he said, downing the rest of his whiskey and setting the glass down so he could tug his shirt out of his pants. Once he’d lifted his shirt about halfway up, he indicated the long, ragged scar that ran over his side. “There. That’s the battle scar. I got shot and it grazed me, took a few layers of skin with it. A real bullet hole from a long distance shot? Doesn’t leave a scar like that.”

Darcy reached out to run her fingertips across the length of the scar and, when prompted, Natasha did the same. “Impressive,” the former announced. “Now, let’s see the rest.”

She was teasing that time, definitely, and Steve smiled as he tucked his shirt back into his pants. “Maybe another time,” he countered. “Take me to the beach and you’ll see them all.”

“Or,” Darcy continued. “I could just ask Nat.”

They both turned to Natasha and she shrugged. “I didn’t really notice,” she said honestly, taking a sip of her drink. “I was a _little_ preoccupied at the time.”

Steve cleared his throat and smiled as Darcy just shook her head. “Really? No time to admire a body like that? How drunk were you?”

Natasha and Steve shared a look. “Not drunk enough to not remember,” he said after a moment. “But I can’t say I took the time to notice any scars either.”

“Pathetic, both of you,” Darcy pouted. “Honestly, what’s the point if you can’t tell me all the dirty details? You’ll just have to do it again.”

“Darcy,” Natasha said firmly. “Can you not?”

Soon enough, Thor made himself known and Darcy gave them both a look before wandering away to greet her friend. Steve ordered another drink without thinking about it and caught Natasha watching him when he looked back to her- although it didn’t really look like she was trying to hide it at all.

“Can I help you?” He teased, a smile playing on his lips.

Natasha smirked in return. “I’m sure you can,” she answered. “But not just yet.”

Well, if that wasn’t a promise for later, Steve didn’t know what would be. But for the moment, they were distracted by the arrival of the new couple, arm in arm and waving to their friends as they entered the room. “We just wanted to say—“ Wanda laughed as Vision pulled her a little closer by the waist and her hand rested on his stomach with so much familiarity, those not in the know might believe they’d been dating for much longer than they had. “We wanted to say thank you to everyone for coming, thank you for the gifts, and we hope you enjoy the party!”

They really were very sweet as a couple. The party resumed with everyone being invited up to the buffet to serve themselves and Steve parked his second whiskey beside Natasha’s second martini to keep his place. There wasn’t much small talk on the way up, but Natasha spoke up again as they began to fill their plates- and Steve absently almost _overfilled_ his, but he figured that was the problem with a buffet. He’d go to the gym the next day and work it all off again anyway. “So, do you always pick up strange bridesmaids at the weddings you attend, or was I special?”

Steve chuckled a little and plucked a roll from the pile so he could add it to his plate- that is; squeeze it onto the side near a mountain of pasta. “Oh, I do it all the time,” he deadpanned. “I mean, some people go to the weddings for the food or the dancing. I go for the bridesmaids.”

Natasha looked like she actually believed him and Steve lasted about two seconds before smiling widely to let her know that he was joking. “Kind of a dick move there, Steve,” she commented, raising an eyebrow at him. “So does that mean I’m special?”

“I guess it does,” he answered. “I mean, I… don’t really pick anyone up, usually. I’m not exactly a smooth talker.” At all. Like, _at all_. Steve was probably the opposite of a smooth talker, although he couldn’t think of the right word for a person like that other than… hopeless.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” she laughed. “You got me into bed, didn’t you?”

Steve blinked as they went to sit down, pushing himself in and immediately going for a sip of his drink. “I think you’ve got that backwards,” he teased. “You got _me_ into bed.”

Natasha thought about that for a moment and nodded slowly, already digging into her pasta with some gusto. Steve actually really liked that about her; that she seemed to enjoy her food. “Alright, you’ve got a point,” she admitted. “But still. I have _really_ good taste.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly and Steve actually found himself enthralled in the kind of person Natasha turned out to be. With a sly wit and a lot of self-deprecating humor plus a fair amount of teasing him, she managed to pull off--- well, his dream girl. The fact that she kept biting her lip and the little smirk she passed off as a smile pretty much sealed his fate and by the time dessert was served, Steve was really working himself up to ask her out properly. After all, if they got along at a wedding, then they’d get along in general. Right? Right.

Unfortunately (although he wasn’t sure that was the right word), he never got a chance to ask because Natasha seemingly got bored with the small talk and slid a hand onto his thigh under the table. “I was thinking that maybe we should get out of here,” she said easily, leaning into him and speaking very low so no one else could hear. “Did you take a cab here?”

Uh, no. No, he hadn’t. “I have a bike,” he said, turning to face her. “Ever ridden one before?”

Natasha blinked, and then smirked. “You’d better be talking about a motorcycle and not an actual bike.”

Steve laughed out loud at the mental image of him on a bike, maybe with Natasha on the handlebars or something. “Yeah, a motorcycle,” he confirmed. “Can you handle that?”

Raising her eyebrows, Natasha gave Steve an entirely unimpressed look. “Trust me, I can handle it.”

“Let’s go, then.” Natasha got up first and said her goodbyes to the bride and groom before seeking Darcy out to make sure she’d be okay on her own. Steve followed in her footsteps to say goodbye and another congratulations to the happy couple before meeting up with Natasha.

“Go get some,” Darcy told them, earning an eye roll from Natasha and a smile from Steve.

Heading out together, Steve didn’t dare ask for Natasha’s hand or anything. He just offered his arm and smiled when she took it, pulling her shawl tighter around herself. She was chilly, obviously, and no wonder; it was getting late. When they reached his bike (that is, a reconstructed, vintage Harley he’d built up with his own two hands as a means of therapy), Steve pulled off his jacket and handed it over before getting on. Natasha climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms tight around his waist as he revved the engine. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn she was smiling into his back as they took off.

The ride to his place didn’t take that long, thankfully. When they arrived, it was very different than last time in that neither of them was drunk and he unlocked the door to admit Natasha rather than unlocking it as she was trying to undress him. This time, she calmly removed his jacket, then her wrap and draped both over the back of a chair as they walked in. She glanced around like she hadn’t taken the time to look the last time- which she probably hadn’t. “Your place is really warm,” she observed.

Steve smiled. That was what he hoped for; that his apartment came across as warm and lived in. He wasn’t out to have an apartment that looked more like a museum than someone’s home. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said proudly. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I—“ He huffed as he glanced towards the kitchen. “I’d offer you a drink, but all I’ve got is beer and water.”

Natasha pressed her lips together into the little smile that Steve had already decided he kind of loved. “I had plenty to drink at the party anyway,” she said teasingly. “And I’m not exactly here for the bottle service.”

Laughing easily, Steve awkwardly stepped up to Natasha and smiled down at her. “What are you here for, then?” He asked, tipping his head to the side. “I know it’s not the witty conversation.”

Giving him a suggestive look that might have gotten him hard right then and there, Natasha slid her hands over his waist and around, eventually squeezing his ass with purpose. “I’m here for this.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at her. “For my ass? Funny. I thought last time we had a lot more fun with something else.”

Natasha shrugged and he knew that she was teasing, but—for some reason, he actually got really excited by the idea that she was interested in more than just his dick. It opened up some opportunities that he hadn’t actually put into practice just yet; but he would. Oh, he definitely would, especially with the right person. “I distinctly remember grabbing you here at some point.”

Oh, Steve remembered that. He remembered Natasha’s nails biting into the meat of his ass as she pulled him closer, forcing him deeper into her and moaning out loud as their hips met. Just the memory made the tips of his ears turn red. “You gonna do something about it, handsome?”

Well, if there was one thing Steve could never back down from, it would be a challenge. Smiling easily, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom, where they began a very familiar dance that started with Natasha’s back against the wall. As he searched for the zipper on the back of her dress, Natasha eagerly unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands over his abs, searching for those other scars he’d mentioned earlier.

In a flash, he was flat on his back in bed and Natasha was carefully looking him over, tracing her fingertips over the ragged scars on his abdomen, and his chest, and down near his hip. She got his belt and his pants undone under the guise of searching for more, which she found in the form of a scar from a bullet right on his left thigh. She leaned down to kiss it and Steve pushed himself up on his elbows to watch her. “They’re really not pretty enough to warrant kisses,” he teased, giving her an easy smile.

“Sometimes ugly things can be beautiful enough for kisses,” she argued, finally pulling back to step out of her dress and indicating a ragged scar on her lower abdomen. “See that? If you can believe it, that’s all from a martial arts accident.”

Steve frowned a little. “What? How?”

Natasha smiled and hopped right on top of him again, easily straddling his waist and touching his chest as she explained. Sitting there in black panties and a bra to match, she looked as effortlessly beautiful as he could imagine. “I was helping teach a class of beginners and someone got overzealous. He kicked me here, and I had to have emergency surgery to remove my appendix.”

Oh. Steve reached out to brush his thumb over the scar and smiled a little. “I think you’ve convinced me,” he said easily. “I kind of want to kiss it now.”

Natasha smirked and raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I’m not saying no.”

Steve idly ran his hands over Natasha’s hips for a moment and thought of something that brought a devilish smile to his face. “Later,” he decided. “I’ve got a better idea and it involves you taking those panties off and sitting on my face.”

Laughing out loud, Natasha shook her head at him. “Captain!” She gasped, slipping off to get rid of her panties like he requested. “I’m shocked! I’m _offended_ that you would be so crass in the presence of a lady…”

“I see a lot of things, but a lady’s not one of ‘em,” Steve answered, winking at her as she climbed back on top and silenced him with a long kiss. Breaking away again, she crawled over him until her slit was right over his mouth and Steve didn’t even wait for her to lower herself down. He reached up, grabbed her hips, and tugged her down onto his mouth, leaning up so he could press his tongue right into her.

Natasha was appropriately surprised, but she planted her knees on the bed and leaned forward, grabbing the headboard with both hands so she had something to hold onto. Steve was merciless, driving his tongue into her for a while before switching things up and going right for her clit instead. If there was one area in which he could actually outshine others in the bedroom, it was this. One of his friends had cited an oral fixation of some kind, but Steve just said he liked it and that was all that mattered. Even now, the fact that Natasha was groaning and rocking her hips down against his mouth was enough to make his cock leak and Steve tried to press his hips up for a little more friction.

Damning his boxers all the way, he went ahead and tried out a few more things here and there. He teased at first, just licking over her and pressing his tongue inside to see how she reacted, but soon enough he was just trying to get her to come. That is, he was trying to pull more of those breathless gasps from her even as she fiercely rocked her hips down against his mouth. When she did finally come, her thighs shook in his hands and she tossed her head back, bearing down on him until she was too sensitive and had to pull away.

Rolling away, she landed beside him and glanced over with an amused smile. “You’re a mess,” she teased. “I’m all over you.”

Steve laughed and leaned off the side of his bed to grab a tshirt so he could wipe his face off for the moment. “I don’t mind it,” he chuckled easily. “You taste pretty damn good.”

He could have sworn she blushed at that, but she also rolled her eyes and reached out to lightly smack his chest. “Do you always go down on the girls you bring home? That’s twice you’ve put your head between my legs, and we’ve only been together twice.”

It was Steve’s turn to blush, his cheeks darkening as the color spread up to the tips of his ears. “Sue me, I like using my mouth.” He shrugged. “Guys or girls, I’m all about the mouth sometimes.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows and turned over to lay half on top of him while she traced nameless patterns on his chest. “Guys too, huh?” She mused, eventually reaching up to touch his full lower lip. “You do have nice lips. I bet they look great with you going down on a guy.”

Yeah, Steve’s face might just melt off. “Heh. Well, it happens,” he stammered. “I mean, the army, uh… There are a lot more men and you get l-lonely sometimes, so…”

“So… you and some other guy would just fool around late at night? Hm?”

Steve swallowed. “Yeah. Could never be too loud, though. Didn’t wanna wake the others or anything…”

Natasha licked her lips and leaned up to kiss his jaw. “So you’d have to hold it all in,” she mused, letting one hand drift down to the bulge between his legs. “You couldn’t make one… little… sound.” She pressed her hand down and Steve let out a choked groan before he could stop himself. “Now, now. Where’s that discipline?”

Great. Natasha was some kind of sadist. Before Steve really understood what she was planning, she’d straddled his calves and tugged his boxers down so they were down near his knees. The way his cock jutted out was nothing short of embarrassing at this point, but Natasha seemed just as pleased as she was amused. “Aren’t we eager,” she remarked, wrapping her hand around him and giving him one blessed stroke that managed to feel like heaven and yet a warning of whatever was coming at the same time.

Sure enough, Natasha’s mouth came down on him not five seconds later and Steve’s hands immediately tightened in the sheets below him, putting severe stress on the shitty fabric. He even moaned out loud, letting his head tip back as he fought not to press his hips up and wind up choking her or something.

But she pulled her mouth off with a pop and smirked up at him. “Not a peep, soldier,” she told him.

Right. He could do that. When Steve nodded, Natasha ducked right back down and took him in again, boldly bobbing her head and stroking whatever she couldn’t reach. In Steve’s limited experience, it was one hell of a blowjob. Trying hard not to make a sound, Steve wound up kind of writhing on the bed, hands still clenched into fists—although one did eventually make its way to Natasha’s hair, fingers tangling in her curls without actually pulling or pushing. Steve just wasn’t that kind of guy.

But Natasha was making it difficult for him not to lose a little control. She nudged his legs apart and settled herself between them at some point, and Steve just went all the way. He wasn’t shy about bending his legs at the knee and spreading them, but he hadn’t expected the way she cupped his balls and even let her finger press gently against the skin behind them. He was leaking already, but that earned a low whine as he tried not to actually make any sound.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of the best kind of torture out there, Natasha pulled her mouth off with a soft pop and Steve pulled his head up just in time to watch as she sat up, licked her lips, and gave him a dangerous smirk. “Good boy,” she praised, but there was just something about the way she smiled that made Steve laugh out loud.

“Good boy,” he repeated breathlessly. “You gonna scratch my head and give me a treat or what?”

“I think I’ve got something a little better than a treat.”

He had to laugh at that again, taking in her playful smile even as she moved to properly straddle his hips, expertly rolling on a condom she pulled from the bedside table. And for a split second, Steve realized that he’d hadn't _laughed_ with a sexual partner like this... in a very long time.

Natasha leaned down to kiss him on the mouth and Steve grabbed her ass with both hands and a solid slapping sound. When Natasha yelped a little and glared down at him, he just grinned boyishly and shrugged. “Bad,” she told him, reaching up to swat lightly at his nose. “Careful or I’ll have to punish you.”

Again, Steve laughed and shook his head at her right up until she lowered herself onto him. There was a moment of silence between them before Natasha started to move, bracing her hands on his chest and even letting her nails dig in a little bit as she really got used to his size again. “If this is—shit, if this is punishment, then I’m all for it,” he teased breathlessly.

Natasha huffed out a breath that was supposed to be annoyed or offended, but she laughed a moment later and leaned all the way down to rest her forehead against his shoulder, her movements stalling for the time being. “You’re ridiculous,” she told him, but there was warmth in her tone that Steve honestly hadn’t expected. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

Steve gave her an innocent look when she lifted her head to look at him. “I mean, sometimes,” he answered easily. “But I’m not normally balls deep in them when they do.”

Natasha’s laugh was quickly becoming one of Steve’s favorite sounds. Before she could really recover, he wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped them over, pinning her with his bulk and leaning down to kiss her at the same time. “Problem?” He asked innocently, taking in the way she was looking at him as her hands moved to touch his cheeks.

“None,” she answered confidently, shifting once to lock her legs around his hips and using her heels to pull him closer. He groaned, and she smirked triumphantly. “And let's make sure I can hear you this time.”

Like she had a choice. Steve pulled his hips back and started with deep, full thrusts that had Natasha arching her back as she sought out _more_. That was just at first. Soon enough, Steve was speeding it up with tight rolls of his hips, knees pressing hard into the mattress for leverage as Natasha goaded him on with sinful moans and nails digging fiercely into his scalp. But their eyes met at some point and both started to smile, even laughing a little bit in the middle of it all.

“Stop that,” he teased, his thrusts slowing down for the moment while Natasha giggled under him. “You're gonna give me a complex.” She pulled him in for another kiss and Steve resumed his movements with ease. The whole thing was …. playful in a way that Steve would never have anticipated, but he appreciated it all the same. In fact, he appreciated it more and more as time went on.

At some point, Natasha's raised hands hit the headboard and she tipped her head back with a moan that turned into a laugh. “Do you _want_ to break the headboard?”

Steve panted a little and glanced up with an amused smile. Pulling out and away, he grabbed her hips and tugged her down the bed a little bit, making Natasha laugh. “Such a caveman when you want to be,” she commented, but that only made Steve raise an eyebrow. “Oooh, what are you gonna do?”

Giving her a boyish smirk, Steve took hold of her hips, flipped Natasha over so her legs were hanging off the bed, nudged them apart, and pressed right back into her. She laughed into the sheets and arched her back, allowing him to lay hands on her ass and spread her open to the point where he could really watch himself disappearing inside her. “How's this for a 'caveman'?” He grunted, making sure his hips were hitting the backs of her thighs with clear purpose.

For a while there, moans were the only thing leaving Natasha. Steve was too caught up in watching his hips meet her ass to think of anything else, but eventually Natasha did speak up. “Turn me over,” she protested, willingly rolling onto her back and nimbly lifting her hips to rest her ankles on Steve's shoulders. Steve got the idea and pressed her legs forward a little as he got back into place, pressing himself right into her and groaning out loud at the tight fit.

While his hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs, Steve settled himself on his knees and picked up the pace again. This time, there was no hesitation and no mercy, not when Natasha was reaching up to grab the headboard properly and arching her back into each and every harsh snap of his hips. “Ah-ah-ah... Keep going,” she panted, even as he leaned forward a little more and marveled at the way her legs accommodated him. “Come on, just a little harder. Right there...”

Steve obliged and within good time, Natasha was arching up off the bed and her thighs shook as she came hard, shouting his name and a few swears even as he let her legs fall about his waist and leaned down for a long, languid kiss. “You didn't come yet,” she murmured against his lips, but two more slow thrusts had her shivering against him.

Chuckling lightly, Steve leaned further down to nuzzle into her neck for the time being. “You get real sensitive,” he murmured against her skin. “I could take advantage of this, you know?” He even rolled his hips a little bit, earning a tired groan and another shiver from the woman underneath him.

“Shut up,” she said, lightly punching his shoulder. “You're such a dick.”

Steve grinned and rolled his hips again just to make her bite down on her lower lip and spread her legs a little wider. It would seem that being sensitive only lasted so long because she was yanking him down into another kiss not ten seconds later and tightening her thighs around his hips to make him move. Given permission, he resumed a series of deep, even thrusts that soon turned into the kind of frantic rutting that just proceeded Steve's own release.

Sure enough, he came with a low groan and after a few short thrusts, his hips stopped completely as he basically collapsed on top of her. She laughed tiredly and patted his shoulder even as Steve shifted out of her and panted against her shoulder. “Darcy is gonna be so jealous,” he rumbled, his voice still muffled by her shoulder.

Natasha snorted and pushed him off so he could roll onto his back beside her. “You're as bad as she is,” she sighed, turning her head to watch him for a moment. Steve mirrored her pose and smiled easily, happy to be where he was for the time being. “You think you'll ever get married?” She asked eventually.

Steve smiled a little and shrugged. “Who knows?” He sighed. “I'm not in a rush to get married.”

“But you want to,” she continued for him. “Right?”

Honestly, Steve wasn't sure this was something they should be talking about. He felt like it would bring up things that would keep them apart- not that they were together in the first place. “Is that a proposal?” Falling back on humor was the best choice and Steve was really hoping she just went for it.

“You wish,” she quipped back, giving him a little wink.

Steve smirked. “What about you? Did you mean what you said before about not wanting to ever get married?”

Natasha shrugged and kind of made a face as she rolled over onto her side, curling up a little bit. “I'm not the marrying kind,” she said easily. “But that's okay." She paused. "I have a cat.”

For some reason, Steve found that hilarious and laughed loudly as he rolled onto his side to face her. Was it weird for a one night stand to feel so comfortable? Would it be out of line to ask her to spend the night so he had someone to hold for a while? Could that possible sound any _more_ pathetic than it already did? “Alright, I’m just gonna come out and ask,” he started, giving her a warm smile. “Are you gonna leave again by the morning? Because I make one hell of a nice breakfast, so… if you stayed, I mean, I wouldn’t mind.”

Try as she might to hide it, Natasha was downright hesitant to stay the whole night. But Steve looked so hopeful about it and maybe it was a sign that she was going soft, but breakfast did sound good… Plus, she might just be able to pull a round of morning sex out of him and morning sex was almost never a bad thing. “I think I could be persuaded to stay,” she answered smoothly. “Does this breakfast involve pancakes?”

Steve smiled and reached out to touch her hip, using that hold as leverage to tug her a little closer. “It could involve pancakes,” he answered. “And bacon. And coffee.”

Natasha groaned and shimmied right over to him, lifting one hand to his jaw as she leaned in for a kiss. “You had me at pancakes,” she teased, turning around to press her back against his chest and welcoming one solid arm around her waist. “G’night, Steve.”

“Night, Nat,” he answered, unable to keep himself from smiling into her hair as he closed his eyes. The night passed comfortably and by the time Steve woke up with the sun, he couldn’t remember why he wasn’t going out of his way to find himself a girlfriend. One of the best things in the world had to be waking up to hair that smelled like strawberries and someone’s soft skin pressed against his own.

But Steve was an early riser and, based on the muffled ‘fuck off’ he got when he kissed her shoulder, Natasha was decidedly not. He just smiled and slipped out of bed so he could watch as she pulled the sheet tighter around her body and curled up right in the middle of the mattress, clutching one pillow rather close. She looked deceptively sweet and innocent right there, her brow relaxed and her lips parted very slightly. Steve had the sudden urge to draw her, but he realized how creepy that would be and just held back. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever be at a place where it was okay, but he knew for sure that they weren’t in that place now.

And so, Steve pulled on a pair of thin pajama pants and wandered out to the kitchen to make breakfast, just like he’d promised. He got the batter for the pancakes going first and let it rest for a while as he started the bacon. He was well into flipping pancakes and turning bacon, and he’d even turned on the radio for a little background noise, when Natasha spoke up from the doorway and nearly scared him to death.

“Well. A handsome man cooking me breakfast? Can’t get any better than this, can it?”

Steve turned immediately and he was about to make a retort (something about how it’d be better if he was _serving_ her breakfast), but how could he? How could he say _anything_ when she was standing there with her hair falling over her shoulders, wearing nothing but one of his tshirts and a smirk. “Uh…”

Natasha raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, which managed to snap Steve out of his creepy staring. “Uh. I mean, you look—“ Shaking his head, Steve had the good decency to blush right to the tips of his ears and look back towards the stove to save his current pancake. “I can think of a few things that are better than this, but not too many pancakes that are better than these.”

Clearly amused, Natasha wandered over to the counter and tore a piece off one of the pancakes already sitting on one of the dishes so she could have a taste. “You might be right,” she said as she chewed. “That’s one delicious pancake.”

Steve swallowed as she touched his arm and stammered out a quick ‘thanks’ before pointing her in the direction of the keurig on the other side of the counter. “Help yourself. I’ve got a thousand different kinds.”

Natasha quietly made herself a cup of something that smelled like blueberries and sat down at the table to flip through the newspaper. Poor Steve turned and had to stop and just admire the curve of her legs where they were crossed over one another under the table. But he recovered fast and served up a big stack of pancakes with a healthy pile of bacon as well, then took a seat right across the little table with his own coffee in hand. “Dig in,” he said warmly. “And you let me know how you like them.”

Cutting herself a bite, Natasha chewed for a moment and gave him an approving look from across the table. “You don’t play where breakfast is concerned, do you?”

Steve grinned. “No, I don’t,” he answered. “I don’t play around where any food is concerned, especially if I’m feeding—you know. Someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” She echoed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know. Someone, uh... Someone I might be trying to impress,” he admitted bashfully.

Natasha seemed genuinely surprised, or maybe shocked, or possibly dismayed. Steve didn't really pride himself on being able to read people that well and he felt like she'd be hard to read even if he did.

Finishing up her breakfast, Natasha gave him a look. “Can I use your shower?”

Steve blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Anything you want.”

Natasha got up and Steve watched her as she moved past him, assuming she’d just head out of the kitchen and into the other room. But she didn’t. She stopped, turned back around to wrap her arms lightly around his shoulders, and leaned down so her lips were right at his ear. “You’ve already impressed me,” she murmured smoothly. “But if you really want to show me what you can do, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

With that, Steve swallowed thickly and she left him right there at the table with half an erection and quite the challenge. Well, alright. There was no denying that he _wanted_ to get in there, so why not?

He tossed the dishes into the sink and made his way towards the bathroom, steam already drifting out since the door was indeed left open just a few inches. Stepping inside, Steve immediately dropped his pajama pants and set them aside in favor of just kind of watching the blurred shape of Natasha’s body inside the shower door, her arms lifted up as she rinsed her hair. He stepped closer, reached out to live the door a little knock, and smiled when she opened it for him. But that sight. The sight of her standing just under the spray with water dripping down her neck over her breasts…

It stopped him right there and he felt like an idiot right up until the moment when she took his hand and pulled him in. Now, Steve had assumed that there would be another round in the shower, but he hadn’t quite expected the urgency in the way Natasha pressed him right up against the wall, nor the eagerness in how she immediately took him in hand with long, purposeful strokes.

“What are the chances you want to cheat death and fuck me up against this wall?” She was murmuring against his jaw now, head tipped back just enough, chest pressed up against him. “

“So is that a thing of yours?” He asked. “You're into that the same way I'm into going down on you...”

Natasha didn't seem ashamed in the slightest; in fact, she was smiling up at him and sliding one hand around to squeeze his ass again. “Is that a problem?” She murmured. “Because we can find another way to do it. Maybe I just like that you can hold me up...” She smirked. “Or maybe I like you pounding into me with the wall at my back; nowhere to go, nowhere to run, no choice but to just give in and take everything you're giving me...”

Steve's breath hitched and he found himself groaning out loud, the sound echoing off the shower walls. She was going to be his undoing if she kept this up. “Natasha,” he gasped, letting out a short laugh because he couldn't remember the last time he was this easily wound up. “If you want me to be able to do anything, you better stop talking like that.”

“Ooh.” She gave him a teasing look and a smile dangerous enough to make him a little nervous. “Don't tell me you're going to come already. I haven't even begun to have my fun with you.”

Before Steve knew what was happening, Natasha spun them around and he was pressing her against the wall, his hands plastered against the tile on either side of her head. Natasha looked like she was exactly where she wanted to be and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, dragging Steve down into a long, languid kiss.

By that point, Steve was pretty much gone. Natasha could have told him to stand on his head and he would have done exactly as she asked. “Alright,” he breathed when their lips parted. “Alright, you wanna be fucked against the wall?”

Natasha bit her lip and gave him a triumphant smile. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve shook his head at her and carefully lifted her up, eventually getting his arms under her knees for support. When he leaned in for another kiss, Natasha favored him with a low moan and reached between them to get him into position. All it took from there was one thrust of his hips and he was inside her again, belatedly remembering that a condom would have been a good idea. But the way she was already moving her hips told him she was probably on some kind of birth control anyway.

He went for it, holding her ass with both hands and drawing his hips back to start a hard pace right off the bat. Natasha actually cried out and the sound was only muffled eventually , when she sank her teeth into the meat of his shoulder. That only spurred him on and before long, Steve was really slamming into her and simultaneously thankful for the bathmat under his feet because without that, they'd have been on their asses already. By the time Natasha's nails were scratching long, red lines over his shoulders, he was wondering why he'd never done this before and why people always said that shower sex was--

Dangerous. Shit. One wrong move and Steve managed to knock over a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of conditioner, two different shower gels, and a bar of soap. In the same moment, he almost dropped Natasha and had to really counter to catch her, meaning that his leg kind of slipped a little bit and all of a sudden, he had a cramp in his calf. “Ow, fuck,” he grunted, setting Natasha down to not so gracefully rub at the back of his lower leg.

And while he had thought that Natasha might find this awkward or disappointing, he realized two seconds later that she was _laughing_ ; like one hand over her mouth, one arm wrapped around her belly fucking _giggling_ at his misfortune. “Hey,” he whined, but there was something about the whole situation that made him smile as well. Maybe it was the fact that his erection hadn't waned and was bobbing along even as he tried to balance himself on one foot and rub at his calf. Maybe it was that Natasha was finding so much joy in all of this. Or maybe it was just that the situation itself was ridiculous. “So,” he chuckled. “I guess that's why people say you shouldn't have sex in the shower.”

Natasha _snorted_ and Steve laughed along with her even as he crowded her against the wall again, pinning both arms on either side of her head. “Hey,” he protested softly. “You keep laughing and I might think you're making fun of me.”

“I _am_ making fun of you,” she said clearly, though she made no attempt to pull away from him.

Steve huffed a little bit. “You're lucky you're so cute.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “I'm cute now, huh?”

“I mean, sometimes.” He shrugged a little bit and gave her a bashful smile, which was only met by her shaking her head, lips pressed together. “Shut up, it's a compliment.”

“Well. Cute or not, we have some unfinished business here, you and I.” She made a point of glancing down at his cock, which was stupidly nudging against her thigh with all the grace of a drunk weasel. “You wanna let me go?”

Steve slowly lowered his hands to release her and watched as Natasha turned around, flattened her hands against the wall, and arched her back to give him an idea of where she was headed. Message received, Steve bent his knees a little and guided himself right back into her. This time, he let his hands hold onto her hips for leverage as he built up their pace again, admiring the way her ass kind of bounced with every movement in.

And she took it, he had to give it to her. Natasha arched her back and welcomed every thrust, even panting his name a few times when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed his fingers against her clit, using the leverage of his hips to rock her against his fingers and get her off. She came with a shuddering moan before too long and he could see her smiling, her cheek resting against the shower wall.

Of course, he hadn't expected her to start talking again. “Are you gonna come for me?” She panted. “Huh? You can come inside me, you know.”

Steve closed his eyes and tipped his head back, grip tightening on her hips. Ten seconds later, she was saying something in smooth Russian and Steve came practically on command. He let out a startled moan and shivered as his thrusts slowed down, then stopped completely. Pulling out, he leaned heavily against the wall beside her and laughed to himself. “You're amazing,” he breathed through it all. “I mean, I can't even--” No one had gotten him to this point before. And it felt so normal. Surely she wouldn't mind if he asked her out for real this time...

“Well,” she quipped. “I try.” Pushing herself up, she patted his chest, turned to rinse her hair, and nimbly stepped out of the shower to dry off. Steve followed suit, turning off the water as well and grabbing for a towel to wrap around his waist.

“So, you think it'll take another wedding for me to see you again?” Ha! That was pretty good, right? Not an obvious invitation out, but something that said he would be open to seeing her again. Steve mentally congratulated himself on not tripping over himself like he normally did.

Natasha sat down on his bed and used one of his spare towels to wring the water out of her hair. “I guess that depends,” she mused. “Knowing Tony, he'll be having some kind of get together before someone else gets married. We'd probably see each other there.”

Aaaaaand.... rejected.

Steve decided to take that in stride and smiled easily before moving to pick out clothes for the day. “That does sound like Tony. I feel like Pepper is probably only going to make it worse.”

Natasha let out a deep, long suffering sigh. “Please,” she said wearily. “Not another event to plan.”

The conversation never faltered; not as Steve pulled on a pair of jeans, not as Natasha pulled on her dress and grabbed her phone so she could arrange an Uber to come get her. Steve wasn’t too hurt by it. Honestly, even though she didn’t want to date him… that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. And with the way things were going, they’d probably be _good_ friends. “Maybe we should just go together next time,” she said, snapping him out of his musings. “That way it’s a little less obvious when we leave together.”

Well, that was sort of a date, right? It was a quasi-guarantee that he’d be seeing her in the future unless one of them met someone else between then and now. And for Steve’s part, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to enter into any long term relationships. God knows he hadn’t been with anyone but Natasha for a long, long time now… and he liked her. The problem was that once he liked someone, he was far more likely to kind of stay with them regardless of whether or not he was actually _with_ them.

And it wasn’t like Natasha couldn’t go off and find someone; it was more like that Steve… felt like it was only right to give this a try and see what happened before he went off with other people in mind. Sue him, he was a romantic. “Yeah, that sounds good to me,” he agreed easily. “Much better than showing up stag again and winding up listening to Tony or Thor or whoever else and the long list of ‘eligible’ women they know.”

Natasha snorted a little as they moved out to the street while Steve pulled on a tshirt for the day. “So you’re that friend, huh?” She mused. “The friend who’s always being set up?”

“I wouldn’t say always,” he chuckled, one hand instinctively going up to the back of his neck. “I mean, I have spent most of my adult life in the army. It’s just that people seem to think I should have a partner to deal with my issues and I… don’t.”

The look on Natasha’s face spoke to her interest, and she tipped her head to the side a little bit. “Your issues?” She mused casually, keeping the tone as light as possible. “What issues?”

Steve cursed himself for even mentioning it. “Technically, I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD and depression,” he admitted slowly, not actually meeting her eyes for fear of the kind of pity and judgment that usually came with that admission. “And I’m dealing with it, but I’m dealing with it on my terms. People seem to think that unless you're seeing a shrink or obviously moving on with your life, you can't be healing. “ He shrugged. “I see it differently, that's all.”

He couldn't place the look Natasha was giving him, but he kind of appreciated it. She definitely didn't seem to pity him, which was good, and she wasn't immediately stumbling over her words while telling him how brave and/or stupid he was... He'd take it as a win. Two seconds later, her Uber pulled up and Natasha pushed herself off the wall to get in. “Kiss goodbye?”

Steve smiled and met her by the car, pulling her into a kiss they both smiled into. It was sweet and soft and simple, and Steve loved every single second of it. “Bye, Steve,” she said easily, slipping into the car and leaving him staring after her like he was watching a good opportunity pass him by.

 

 


	3. Melinda and Phil

As it turned out, Natasha was wrong about it being a long time before the next wedding. On a random Saturday in November, she got a text from Melinda asking her to get dressed (in black, preferably) and come to a particular restaurant in Chinatown as soon as possible. Intrigued, she answered that she would and immediately got up to grab her favorite black dress; just a short thing with spaghetti straps that hugged her curves and showed off as much as any LBD should in her opinion. She paired it with dark red tights and booties, grabbed her leather jacket and a scarf, and got out of there.

When she arrived, she expected to meet Melinda for lunch or something, but what she found was a crowd of people already inside, laughing and drinking and trying to figure out why they’d been called there. Eventually, she spotted Steve and she had to smile as she made her way over to him. He looked utterly handsome in dark jeans, a black tshirt, and a jacket to keep warm, and Natasha wondered if their unspoken promise would extend to tonight as well, whatever this turned out to be.

“Any idea what this is about?” She asked him, taking what felt like a comfortable place at his side.

Steve slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged, but he was a shitty liar and she rolled her eyes at him when he smiled. “You do know,” she said confidently. “And you’re not going to tell me.” Shaking her head, Natasha let out a disappointed sigh. “There goes that whole ‘gentleman’ thing you had going.”

He laughed. “You mean that didn’t go away when I asked you to sit on my face?”

Natasha smacked his chest with her clutch and gave him a look. “Why don’t you announce it a little louder?”

Steve raised his eyebrows and idly put one arm around her waist. “No one’s listening, I promise,” he said warmly, even leaning down to speak to her. “Which is why I can tell you that you look beautiful without anyone overhearing that either.”

Natasha did not blush. She did not blush.

Okay, she blushed. Only a little bit, but who could blame her?

“Natasha!” Pepper waved to get her attention and Natasha had to excuse herself from Steve to seek out her friend. “Oh, good. You’re here. Come.” Grabbing her hand, Pepper pulled the other redhead into another room, where Melinda stood wearing the most gorgeous bridal gown she’d ever seen. And it wasn’t gorgeous in the same way Pepper’s or Wanda’s had been—No, it was a modern take on the more traditional dresses worn in China.

The gown Melinda was wearing was a vibrant red. On every inch of the fabric, it was decorated with the most delicate, intricate gold flowers and culminated in a piece at the top that wrapped elegantly around Melinda’s neck and covered her shoulders, which tied together right at the base of her throat. With gold trim highlighting the curve of her bust and the slits on either side of the skirt, the dress itself was a work of art. And yet somehow, that didn’t take away from Melinda’s cautious smile and the way her hair was put up for once and decorated with matching red flowers.

“Oh my God,” Natasha managed, stepping up close to her. “Oh my _God_ , are you—“

Melinda held up a finger. “We’re not making a big deal out of this,” she said quickly. “The only reason there are people here at all is because _someone_ insisted.”

“You can’t actually blame me for wanting some witnesses. I mean, people might not believe me otherwise.” Phil Coulson was someone that Melinda had been dancing around for ages now. Natasha raised her eyebrows as she hadn’t even known they were dating—and in all honesty, Melinda probably hadn’t ever let that work slip out—but she couldn’t have been happier about it. Phil was a good man; dependable, sweet, down to Earth. He was exactly the kind of guy who would make Melinda happy without putting her on the spot all the time.

“You’re getting married,” Natasha breathed. In a way, she couldn’t believe it. Something told her that she would wind up thinking on this a little too much once everything else settled.

“Oh, I’m getting married… and you’re a bridesmaid. Maid of honor, in fact.” Melinda grabbed a beautiful fan decorated just like her dress and handed it over. “I’ve got a feeling you and the best man will get along.”

There was no walking down the aisle, but once Steve joined them in the other room, Natasha got the picture. She took Steve’s arm and held the fan in front of her face just enough to keep only her eyes on display. They led the way and eventually took their places beside the bride and groom, respectively.

The ceremony itself was brief; just a few nice words and simple vows, but they sealed it with a kiss and everyone clapped as the happy couple turned for a few pictures. After that, however, Melinda ushered Natasha over to Steve for more pictures and yes, there was this strange feeling of… complacency? Happiness? Satisfaction? Whatever it was, Natasha smiled through it and tried not to think about what it all meant.

By the time they were seated and dinner was served in the form of heaping plates of various dishes that were to be shared family style, she’d successfully repressed any thoughts having to do with how exactly seven different people had commented to her about what a ‘cute couple’ she and Steve made.

Why did it even matter? They got along and they had good sex and despite the fact that she wasn’t ever going to actually initiate a relationship between them, it felt good to be at his side. Unhealthy attitude towards romance? Maybe. And it wasn’t like she found Steve _cute_ or anything---

Natasha glanced to the side as he tried (and failed) to pick up a piece of chicken with the chopsticks provided to them and smiled before she could stop herself. Okay, so he was cute. But that didn’t mean they were meant to be or anything. It certainly didn’t mean that she was going to put herself in another situation where she was at some man’s beck and call, all too convinced that he loved her when the reality was that---

Deep breath. Steve was not Alexei.

Still, she just didn’t care about him that way. This was a fun thing that she could enjoy without consequences and without worry, even if they were actually friends instead of strangers at a club. The point remained that Natasha was not going to let this go to her head; or more importantly, to her heart.

Excusing herself after a while, she slipped into the back room and reminded herself of all the reasons why relationships didn’t work for her. Alexei was a special reason why not, but she put him in there anyway. The fact was that she didn’t know how to do it, how to give herself over the way she had back when she was sixteen and making a huge mistake. Steve wasn’t going to _fix_ that.

Except that when she came back into the main room and spotted some blonde sitting in _her_ chair and happily chatting away with Steve, Natasha was pretty sure she saw red. What did that bitch think she was doing? Steve had walked up with Natasha, he was sitting with _Natasha_. Just because he didn’t have a ring on his finger---

But wait. Wasn’t that the point? Wasn’t the whole idea of her little breakdown a reminder that she and Steve were not in a monogamous relationship or a relationship at all? Natasha didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. She didn’t want to deal with all the drama that came with it, like questions of trust and commitment and…

That bitch was touching his arm. Uh, no.

Natasha quickly ducked back into the room to make sure everything was advantageously adjusted and strutted her way out to the table, where she stopped behind Steve and gave the other woman a sweet smile coupled with a glare that could kill. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “I believe that’s my seat.”

The blonde was plain, but pretty enough. She had thin lips and small eyes and Natasha wanted to yank her out of that chair. “Oh, Steve and I were just—“

Natasha laughed easily, cutting her off. “Well,” she said smoothly. “You’re sitting between me and my drink. So if you don’t mind…”

There she goes. The blonde glanced at Steve and stood up, towering over Natasha by at least five inches or so. And she had really long legs too, and a thin frame. Natasha supposed that she did feel a little threatened if only because Steve stood up too (no doubt in an effort to be polite) and the two of them looked like such a Barbie-and-Ken couple that she wanted to puke. Fuck everything, Natasha officially had something to prove.

She sat down and crossed her legs at the knee, calmly taking a sip of her wine while she waited for Steve to end his conversation with the blonde and eventually tap her number into his phone. Once he sat down, he pushed himself in just as they were beginning to serve cake. “You okay?” He ventured, and he had the unmitigated _gall_ to look like he didn’t understand what that had been just now. The nerve!

“I’m fine,” she answered, thankful that she now had cake to dig into instead of facing the truth.

Or so she thought.

“So, do you know Sharon?” He asked innocently. “She works with Melinda, apparently.” He paused. “She’s nice.”

Natasha’s grip on her fork got a little tighter. “No, I don’t know her,” she answered, steeling herself and looking up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Steve blinked. “Don’t you think we should finish the cake first…?” He glanced over towards where Phil was trying to feed Melinda a bite of cake under protest, and Natasha saw how he smiled at the sight. He wanted that. No matter what he’d said in bed last time, he really wanted that. “We should say goodbye before we leave, you know?”

Sue her. She needed confirmation and clarification here. “But you are leaving with me, right?”

Again, Steve gave her this look that said he couldn’t quite figure her out. “Yeah,” he answered slowly. “Yeah, I’m leaving with you. But this frosting is really delicious…”

Natasha smirked triumphantly and leaned in close, her cake nearly forgotten. “It would be so much better if you were licking it off me.”

Steve choked and coughed a little bit while Natasha sat back and took another dainty bite of her own cake while he recovered with a big mouthful of water. When he was finished getting it down, he leaned over to her and laid one hand on her thigh as well. “I’d prefer to be licking you directly, to be honest.”

Alright, maybe they _were_ a match made in heaven because hey, Steve liked using his mouth and Natasha very much liked being on the receiving end of that mouth. “I’m sure that can be arranged,” she said coyly, glancing pointedly to his lips for a moment.

Once they finished their cake, both Steve and Natasha headed over to Phil and Melinda to say goodbye. Natasha challenged the look the bride was giving her, but there was also an unspoken promise to meet up for details the next time they got the chance. By the time they left together, Natasha was more than ready to stake her (unconfirmed, totally unreasonable) claim.

As it turned out, Steve had taken the train and Natasha had taken a cab, so they were without a bike to get them to his place as soon as possible. Steve helpfully hailed a cab about half a block away and let Natasha slide in first before he followed suit. She didn’t bother with any pretense this time; just gave the driver _her_ address while Steve leaned back. The second they started to move, she leaned in to kiss his jaw, her hand sliding right onto his thigh. “This is better,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “Isn’t it?”

Steve looked down at her and smiled, but he was clearly a little surprised that they were going to her place instead of his. Apparently Natasha’s commitment issues were a little less well hidden than she’d imagined. “Yeah, I think so,” he mused. “Might be a little better if you kissed me.”

Natasha smirked and leaned up to press their lips together trading one hand for the other and nimbly letting her fingers brush against his inner thigh. Steve jumped a little bit, but he ultimately let his hand cup the back of her head to draw her into a deeper kiss and eventually welcomed the way she was _brushing_ over his zipper like the goddamn sadist she was sometimes. By the time they pulled up to Natasha’s building, he was severely questioning whether or not he could move without scraping up against the aforementioned zipper in the most painful way possible.

But he managed to pay for the ride, got out, and followed her up to the door with his hands kind of awkwardly dangling in front of his pants. Thankfully, she had him inside in a matter of minutes and Steve hardly had time to take in what her place looked like before her lips were on his and his back was pressed firmly against the nearest wall. And while he was certain that nothing had actually changed between them, Natasha was practically _tearing_ at his shirt and Steve found it equal parts endearing and arousing.

They didn’t actually make it to the couch. At some point, Natasha dragged Steve down by his tie and shoved his shoulders to the floor so she could straddle him, her dress tossed aside with little to no regard for where or how it landed. And Steve’s pants weren’t even off; she’d just opened them up and pulled him through, stroking him a few times with rough, pointed strokes until he was bucking up into her hand.

“Nat—“

Natasha let out something between a growl and a grunt, immediately leaning down to seal their lips together and cut him off. Whatever he was going to say, she didn’t need to hear it. And she didn’t want to hear her name… Not yet, anyway. Pulling away again, she leaned up on her knees, tugged her panties to the side, and sank right down onto him with a long groan.

“Fuck…” Natasha took advantage of Steve’s surprise to grab his hands, lacing their fingers together and ‘pinning’ his arms down on either side of his head. Thoroughly enjoying the way his zipper pressed against her each time she moved, the redhead built up a hard pace even with various bits of clothing in the way. Even through the fierce, deep kisses they shared, she continued to move no matter how sloppy things got. Steve was _hers,_ at least in any way that ought to matter. For these few moments, perhaps for the rest of the night if she was lucky, he was _hers._

When she sat up and began really grinding her hips down, Steve’s now freed hands went immediately to her hips so he could feel that movement, his head falling back in defeat. “ _Nat_ , fuck…”

That was what she wanted to hear. Her hands settled on his solid chest and she let her nails dig into his stupidly perfect skin. As she dragged down and watched as red lines appeared, Natasha realized that she needed to hear it. Fuck everything; she _wanted_ to hear those words.

“Tell me you’re mine,” she demanded, meeting his eyes all the way through because she refused to look away and make him think it meant more than it did. She was just feeling possessive, that was all. This wasn’t about actually taking him as hers or anything like that. It wasn’t about anything other than that little blonde twig she saw touching him. But Natasha did lean down and bite harshly at Steve’s earlobe before repeating her demand. “Say it.”

Steve groaned and she could feel his fingers really digging into the meat of her hips like there might be bruises tomorrow. “I’m yours,” he said, giving it up right away. “I’m yours. Fuck, all—all yours.”

It wasn’t like it mattered. Steve knew hardly anything about her and they weren’t getting together or anything. But they could pretend for a while that scratching these little itches was all they needed to do. Steve’s assertion that he did indeed belong to Natasha was enough for her, and she threw her head back while she continued to grind her hips down, taking pleasure in the way his fingers dug into her hips.

Steve’s moans eventually turned into these harsh, gulping gasps of air and he bucked his hips up, only serving to make her bounce on his lap a little here and there. But Natasha was adamant that she have the control here. She eventually leaned back to put her weight on his thighs so he couldn’t move as much and continued to rock her hips like she was completely undeterred. That is, until she felt everything coming to a peak at last. She pitched forward and latched onto Steve’s shoulders as she came, groaning harshly into his throat while he pressed his hips up with futile abandon.

It took her a few seconds, but Natasha did crawl off and wrap her hand around his cock, once again going for long, steady strokes that eventually became hard and eager while he writhed on the floor. There was something inherently wonderful about watching a man claw uselessly at the floor beneath him, jaw clenched hard, muscles tight and tightening further as he desperately tried to chase the movement of her hand. Maybe it was just Natasha, or maybe this was some kind of universal thing.

Regardless, she had Steve by the dick right now and it was _so_ ultimately satisfying to watch him slowly come to the point where he wasn’t even able to get a full sound out. By the time he let out a breathless swear and came over her hand, Natasha was so taken with the sight of him that she hardly minded the mess. She didn’t even mind that she was going to have to put his pants in the washer, which meant he’d likely stay the night. Why would she mind? Steve was a good bed partner to have.

While she got up and slipped out of her panties, Steve began to laugh. It was soft and tired, but it was definitely a laugh only heeded by the way he rubbed a big hand over his face. “Fuckin' unbelievable,” he muttered, pulling his hand away to meet her questioning gaze. “Hah, you're _unbelievable_.”

So he did mean it in a good way. Natasha smiled and glanced down for a moment before giving him a smirk. “Take off your pants.”

Steve chuckled and got to his feet to give her a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am.” He disrobed and for a second there, Natasha just kind of smiled at the sight of her big, blond hookup standing in front of her, dick hanging out of his boxers, pants in hand, clothes in disarray. She took the pants with an easy smirk and told him to make himself comfortable while she put these in the washer. She pretended not to notice the fact that he was watching her walk away, but she absolutely knew he was, and she loved it.

When she returned, Steve had fixed his boxers and wandered over to the massive bookcase in her living room to peruse what was on the shelves. There was something very domestic in how he'd lowered the lights and looked so completely at home standing there-- not to mention how he turned and smiled when she came in. Natasha had just pulled on a tank top and a clean pair of panties so she'd be comfortable for the night and with the way Steve looked at her, one might think she'd walked in wearing actual lingerie or something. “See anything you like?”

Steve chuckled easily and tugged one of her books off the shelf. “Yeah, a few things,” he answered. “Can you actually read whole books in all these languages...?”

Natasha approached and glanced at the book he'd chosen; a book of short stories written in Japanese. “What can I say? I've got a talented tongue.”

Steve laughed. “Star Trek. Right? That's from Star Trek.”

Dork. Natasha shook her head at him and set the book back in its proper place. “I don't even have words for you right now. What kind of hot blond are you? What kind of big, stupid, hot blond happens to be able to recall four word quotes from Star Trek?”

“Uh. This.. kind? I don't know.” Steve looked all bashful about it, rubbing at the back of his neck as his cheeks warmed. “I liked that movie.”

Natasha pressed her lips together and tried her best not to be charmed by all this. “What do you say we have some wine and wait for your clothes to be done?” She suggested, already leading him into the kitchen. There, she uncorked a new bottle and poured two glasses full, handing one over to Steve while she hopped up onto the counter to drink hers. “So, tell me something,” she mused at some point. “Do you just have some kind of compulsion for really good sex, or is it weddings that get you all turned on?”

Steve choked on his wine and licked his lips as he set his glass down for the time being. “You mean, do I get a boner in the presence of true love?” He teased. “No, I think I'm gonna go with the truth here. You probably make me that good.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “You already got me, I'm standing in my underwear and slowly getting you drunk. You don't need to keep complimenting me.”

“Wait, you're trying to get me drunk? Because if that's the case, you're gonna want to find something a little stronger than wine.” He winked teasingly and took another sip as she gave him an unimpressed look. “Alright, alright,” he sighed, withering under her curious gaze. “The truth? Before you, I literally hadn't ever picked anyone up in the same way before. Like, I'd never had... casual sex with a stranger.”

Natasha arched one eyebrow and tapped the rim of her glass like she might not believe him. “You took to it like fish to water,” she answered dryly. “For whatever that's worth.”

Steve looked almost relieved that she wasn't digging any further. “Thanks,” he answered warmly. “But I do mean it. I mean, it's been good before? But it's _incredible_ with you.”

She rolled her eyes again and knocked back the rest of her wine just as the washing machine finished up. “You're a loser,” she said as she passed by, lightly touching his arm on the way. Once she'd put the clothes into the dryer, she returned to the kitchen and found it empty. Huh. Frowning lightly, she wandered through the dining room into the living room, where she found Steve sitting on the floor having a face off with her cat. Ryba was still just a kitten, and she was sitting quietly on the floor with her tail lightly swishing back and forth, big, green eyes focused on Steve, who just stared back at her.

“I didn't know you had a cat,” he mused, looking up at Natasha. “She's cute.”

“She's only a few months old. A friend of mine wound up with a pregnant cat and handed off a kitten as soon as he could. Her name's Ryba.” She smiled. “It means 'fish', since she likes the water so much. Makes no sense.”

Steve reached out and offered the cat his hand to sniff, but she didn't look all that interested. “C'mon,” he tried. “C'mere, kitty...” Ryba just kind of blinked at him, then looked to Natasha, got up, and flitted over to her for the time being. “Aw,” he mumbled. “She doesn't like me.”

Natasha scooped Ryba into her arms and joined Steve on the floor while the kitten purred in her lap. “She's just playing hard to get,” she explained. “You've got to work for it.” Idly petting the cat, she indicated a small basket off to the side. “There's a few toys in there. She likes the green one the best.”

Steve retrieved the green toy and sat down right in front of Natasha again, dangling the little thing in front of Ryba. Now, she still didn't seem all too interested in Steve himself, but she kind of turned onto her back in Natasha's lap and reached up to bat at the toy with both paws. “Hey, there you go,” he praised, smiling widely. “You like that? Huh? Is that fun?”

Ryba meowed out loud and tried to hop up to grab the toy. Eventually, she got bold enough to brace herself on Natasha's thigh, shake her butt for a moment, and launch herself towards Steve in an effort to retrieve the mouse at the end of the toy. But all she succeeded in doing was landing face first against Steve's chest and falling into his lap with a frustrated sigh. “See?” Natasha said, clearly amused. “She's probably already thinking about curling up to sleep on your chest.”

Looking up, Steve offered Natasha a warm smile. “Are _you_ thinking about curling up on my chest, or is that just her?”

“I think I'd look a little ridiculous trying to fit on top of you like that.”

Steve shrugged. “Won't know until we try.”

Natasha just kind of watched him for a moment, her lips pressed together, shaking her head. “You're some kind of wonderful, you know that?” She ventured. “Some kind. I'm not sure _what_ kind just yet.”

Steve's cheeks reddened and he ducked his head bashfully. “Thanks? I think.”

“Let's go to bed,” she suggested, standing up and watching as Steve tried to dislodge Ryba, failed, and ended up just kind of lifting her up as he stood at the same time. “You do have a way with women.”

Together, they headed into the bedroom and got under the covers. Ryba finally vacated in favor of curling up at the foot of the bed and Steve inched a little closer to Natasha. “You wanna get breakfast?”

Natasha huffed out a laugh. “Right now? Will you be going out in just your boxers?”

Steve smiled widely. “I meant tomorrow morning. Do you wanna get breakfast in the morning?”

She paused for a second and kind of narrowed her eyes at him, not that he could really see that in the dark. “You're a planner, huh?”

“Nah,” he answered, rolling onto his back. “I just figured I'd get that out now so I can say I officially sort of kinda asked you out. And if you say no, then I don't have to look at you til morning. If you say yes, then I've got something to dream about.”

Natasha was actually kind of speechless for a second. But one date didn't mean anything, right? And it was hardly a _real_ date; just breakfast after a night of good sex and surprisingly pleasant conversation. “Well, I do like breakfast,” she answered. “You know any places that serve good waffles?”

“Oh, I definitely know a place,” he assured her. There was a pause and Steve let out a long breath. “Wow, I feel like I can sleep soundly now. Might just pass out, right in the middle of a---”

Wait. Natasha's head snapped to the side and she stared at him for a several seconds before Steve started to laugh. “You are _such_ a loser,” she accused, playfully shoving his arm. Shaking her head again, she rolled over and hiked one leg over his hip so she could lay her head down on his chest. “Go to sleep before you kill me with all-- that.”

Steve shifted once, putting his arm loosely around her waist and lightly stroking her skin once he found the little gap between her panties and where the tshirt had bunched up near her waist. “Yeah, yeah. G'night, Nat.”

“Night, Steve,” she answered, resting her cheek right there on his pec and loosely wrapping her arm around his waist.

They slept soundly all through the night and when Natasha woke up, she was still all squished up against Steve, greedily soaking up his warmth even now that the sun was shining through the windows. Ugh. Morning. Natasha pressed her face right into Steve's chest and groaned quietly as she tried to make herself as small as possible so she just didn't have to get up yet. Steve, however, woke up with a slight start and looked downright bewildered for a few seconds before letting his gaze settle on Natasha.

And he smiled. God, he had an incredible smile.

“G'mornin',” he breathed, rubbing a hand over his hair and only messing it up further, which just managed to add to his charm. Natasha wanted to slap him just to see if shocked and appalled looked good on him too. “You sleep okay?”

She sighed. “Like a baby,” she answered smoothly. “Still interested in breakfast?”

Steve nodded and smiled lazily as they both moved to get up, although it was a pretty slow process for the time being. Heedless of their status as acquaintances, really, they stepped into the shower together and woke each other up in the best way possible; that is, with Natasha's warm hand wrapped around Steve's cock and Steve's mouth dragging over her nipples on his way down between her legs.

While Steve dried off and went to retrieve his clothing from the laundry room, Natasha considered her options for a nice outfit. She wasn't in the mood for a dress, so she chose one of her favorite pairs of jeans along with a pair of brown boots. Then she chose a red v-neck tshirt and fastened her favorite arrow necklace on before smearing on some tinted lip gloss and a touch of eyeliner and mascara. Just... a little bit. Maybe she wasn't going on some big, fancy date, but she still wanted to look nice.

Steve was already in the living room and he'd compensated for the walk-of-shame look by stuffing his tie into his pocket, keeping his shirt unbuttoned a little bit, and rolling up the sleeves. He looked unfairly good like that and Natasha wanted to bite his forearm for a second. “Don't you look fashionably rumpled,” she commented instead, grabbing a tan leather jacket to pull on over her own ensemble. “Come on, soldier. I'm starving.”

Breakfast was... an experience. Steve really was a pleasure to have around- so much that Natasha found herself kind of forgetting that she wasn't planning on dating this guy. She got to learn that Steve didn't just eat a lot of food when it was free; he just had a big appetite, period. He ordered pancakes, plus bacon and sausage, plus two scrambled eggs, plus coffee and toast. “Think you've got enough to eat?”

Steve looked up with a piece of bacon still right between his fingers and his fork poised for more. “Mm.. Yeah,” he mumbled, belatedly covering his mouth so he could swallow and give her a smile. “I think so.”

Natasha shook her head fondly and took another sip of her tea to wash down the latest bite of waffle. The rest of the meal passed not just quickly, but _easily_. It felt like no time had passed at all, and yet... the check came and Steve paid it like the gentleman she had known he would be. He even left a tip that reflected just how much of a good person he was.

“So, this was nice,” Steve said as they got to the street.

Natasha glanced up at him as she put her sunglasses in place and smiled. “Yeah, it was.”

Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but he chickened out at the last minute and leaned down to press their lips together instead. He even lingered for a couple of seconds, drawing it out and nearly tugging her lower lip when he finally pulled away. “I’ll call you,” he said, and she already knew that he wasn’t just saying it. That was a fucking promise if she’d ever heard one. “Bye!”

He turned and jogged down the street, clearly heading right for the nearest train station to get home. And Natasha? Natasha just kind of stood there for a long moment before she was able to step forward and raise her hand to hail a cab. It wasn’t actually until she was in the back and had given the driver her address that she realized the truth of what was going on.

She was dating Steve, wasn’t she? This wasn't just breakfast. It was a date. How did that happen?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And hey, if anyone has suggestions for another couple for the next chapter, throw them out there! <3


	4. Everyone Needs a Break...

Over the next few days, Natasha found herself wondering if Steve was really going to call her. And if he was, what was he going to say? Would he ask her out? More importantly, would she say yes? Because saying yes would mean that she was consenting to actually dating him. Decisions, decisions.

It was late on a Tuesday morning that her phone buzzed on her desk and a somewhat busy Natasha glanced over, ready to ignore it- but it was Steve. It was definitely Steve, because his big, stupid smile was looking up at her from when she'd snapped a picture and added his number to her phone. And hey, she had to answer it, because it was him. That in itself was kind of worrying, but it wasn't something she was prepared to actually deal with right now.

And then later on that day, as Natasha was getting ready to leave, she just had to enact some kind of revenge...

Two seconds later, he was asking her if she was hungry and inviting her to dinner. But the truth was that he made the invitation sound so casual and normal that Natasha didn't even hesitate before saying that yeah, she could eat. He said he'd pick her up from work and she promised to be downstairs in fifteen minutes.

He showed up in jeans and a leather jacket, they went out for Chinese, and Natasha pulled him into her place for a nightcap that mostly consisted of three glorious rounds of sex, a shared cigarette they decided they desperately needed (and promised not to mention to anyone else), and two glasses of wine they didn't ever actually get to finish. All in all, it was a damn good night.

Steve actually wound up dropping Natasha off at work in the morning and it didn't even feel that weird. Although that might have had something to do with the fact that he'd dropped to his knees in the shower that morning, put her legs over his shoulders, and ate her out just like that, with her fingers desperately scrambling for purchase on the wet tiles, or his shoulders. He'd gone home with scratch marks and she went to work with a smile.

That morning, she got the best 'thanks for the sex' text she'd ever gotten. It actually made her smile, even if he was absolutely ridiculous.

Two days later, in the middle of a (surprisingly) quiet Thursday...

_ _

_ _

__

And that was how Natasha found herself hailing a cab and giving the driver Steve's address. Why not, right? A quickie for lunch was way more exciting than the sandwich she'd planned on eating and so far, everything she'd had at Steve's place tasted way better... He'd probably have food there too, because he was that kind of person and knew she was skipping lunch to get on him.

He greeted her at the door wearing a pair of sweatpants that hung so low on his hips, she could see the sharp, defined muscles leading down to his groin. She could see the beginnings of the blond hair that led down to his cock, which was currently tenting said sweatpants to an obscene degree.

“Well. Someone's eager.”

Steve dragged her inside with all the grace of a bulldog and pressed her right up against the nearest wall, hands immediately dropping to her thighs so he could hike her skirt up. Just as the picture indicated, she was wearing black panties and garters- and it wasn't even done specifically with Steve in mind, but Natasha was glad she'd chosen to wear these today.

He groaned deeply and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could press up against her. “I'm gonna have to fuck you with the garters on,” he said all in a rush, leaning in fast to catch her lips in a kiss- one of those kisses that left both parties kind of dizzy and out of breath by the end of it.

As he picked her up off the wall, Natasha went about removing her cardigan and tossing it to the side, leaving her in just a gray blouse and her skirt. Steve made quick work of the former once he'd pushed her up against another wall, and even quicker work of the latter two seconds after she hit the bed. “What's gotten into you?” She laughed, watching as Steve fumbled as he got her skirt off over her shoes.

Steve tugged his sweatpants off and she recognized how hard he was, the tip of his cock flushed and red already. It must have been hell just keeping those pants on, because the friction would have been driving him crazy... especially considering he was not wearing boxers, the idiot. “Can't I just be really into you right now?” He countered, crawling over her and dragging hot, soft lips over her belly, then over the tops of her breasts on his way up to kiss her properly again.

Natasha tipped her head back as his lips found her jaw and smiled. “You're always really into me,” she teased. “This is different.”

Seemingly ignoring her attempts to get some kind of explanation, Steve sat back and admired the sight she made, all dressed up in her black lingerie. “Were these panties expensive?” He asked, carefully sliding his fingers under the fabric near her hips and raising his eyebrows as he waited for an answer.

Natasha blinked, tipping her head to the side in amusement. “No, I guess they weren't,” she answered slowly. “But you're not really going to--”

Rip them right at the seams? Yeah. Yeah, he was. Steve did it so fast and with so much confidence that Natasha actually gasped out loud a little bit. Fucking fuck, she probably wasn't supposed to find that so hot. But she did, and she spread her legs to welcome his body between them. “Fuck me,” she mumbled, sliding her fingers into his short hair and gripping hard. “Come on.”

Steve was nothing if not a gentleman. He dragged her hips up into his lap, her lower back settled on his thighs, and pressed into her so fully and so powerfully that he managed to push the breath right out of Natasha's lungs. She groaned as soon as she could, arms falling over her head as his big hands bracketed her hips to pull her into him. But soon enough, that angle and that position just wasn't enough. Natasha reached up for his shoulders and used that grip to pull herself up into his lap, easily balancing herself there and rocking her hips to keep things going.

She wondered how often she could lose herself in Steve's hands on her ass and Steve's big, thick muscles and the way Steve tipped his head back to moan and the way he really took her pleasure into account without actually committing to a relationship. After all, she felt like she was already pressing his boundaries because he wasn't the type for this. She knew that. Steve was definitely the one-woman monogamous type, so where and when exactly would he draw his line in the sand?

Coming back to the moment at hand, Natasha leaned down to sink her teeth into his shoulder and took pleasure in the full body shudder he got in response. She'd toyed with the fact that he seemed to enjoy a little pain here and there and this was no different, not when she was lightly tugging at his hair with one hand and digging her nails into his bicep with the other.

At some point, she landed on her belly and Steve was just crowding over her, keeping her legs together as he pressed back into her and--- well, fuck. Natasha could feel every inch of him and he felt bigger somehow, but she could also feel the solid vein that traced up the underside of his cock and the drag of the ridge under the head, and it was all driving right into a spot that had her mouth dropping open in moans she hardly recognized, hands scrambling for purchase once again. “Fuck. Fuck, right there, do not fucking stop--”

He didn't stop. Natasha came with a scream that she muffled in the sheets beneath her, sheets that actually had a hint of her perfume on them because she'd been here so often. She wondered if he recognized that, or if he liked it; a strange thing to be thinking about as she gushed around his cock and probably soaked some of the bedspread itself. But Steve didn't let up. Nope, he was going right for it, only pulling out so he could jerk himself off and come in long, hot streaks on her ass.

Ever the considerate fuck buddy, Steve grabbed a shirt off the floor and quickly wiped up the evidence of his release even if he knew Natasha would have to wash up further before she went back to work. And then he landed beside her on his back, a light sheen of sweat still clinging to his forehead and his chest in the most delicious possible way.

Natasha kind of rolled over and landed half on top of him, too tired and sated to move any further just yet. Laying where she was, she was able to pat his stomach a couple of times. “Good,” she praised. “Very good.”

Steve huffed a little. “Good? That was fantastic.” He paused. “You screamed.”

“I did not scream,” she answered indignantly. “I was a bit louder than normal.”

“You definitely screamed.”

Natasha turned over and glared at him. “I did not. Don't go getting a bigger ego than you've already got.”

Steve smirked a little. “You also, ah...” He glanced over to the wet spot on his bedspread and grinned proudly-- _he'd_ made that happen. “I've never had that before.”

Natasha followed his gaze and pressed her lips together when she felt her cheeks grow warm. “Shut up,” she said very maturely, resting her cheek on his chest because she couldn't handle that smile anymore unless she was kissing it off his face, and she was just too tired for that.

Steve was still grinning, she knew it, but he also leaned way over off the side of the bed and retrieved his phone so he could order food. She watched as he tapped in an order for pizza and set the phone down again in favor of just enjoying the whole post-coital glow thing. Natasha idly wondered if he cuddled with everyone, or if she was special. Because she definitely didn't cuddle with everyone.

Then again... she hadn't been with anyone else since Tony and Pepper's wedding. For the first time, she wondered why that was, exactly. She was technically single, right? She had every right to seek out as much sex as she wanted and yet...

Steve shifted once, his hand idly coming up to toy with her hair. She could feel his strong heartbeat and the way his chest moved with each breath. He smelled like something that was definitively masculine, but there was a hint of something else. She even turned her head to press her nose against him, inhaling deeply so she might be able to figure out what it was...

She couldn't quite get it until she lifted his other hand up and sniffed his fingers a little bit. Charcoal.

He smelled like charcoal and it was so comforting that Natasha nearly bolted. Nearly. But not quite.

Steve, who obviously couldn't figure out what she was doing, playfully grabbed her face with that hand for two hot seconds before turning to hover over her and kiss her instead. Natasha returned the kiss, but she told herself that falling in love with him wasn't in the cards. She wasn't supposed to allow someone in like this ever again, not after what happened last time. Still, when Steve pulled back and smiled down at her, she found herself smiling right back.

They wound up eating pizza right there in his bed and when the hour was nearly up, Natasha washed herself up, got dressed, and allowed Steve to walk her to the curb for a cab. He kissed her right before she got in and Natasha smiled the whole way back to her office, right up until she realized that she had to pull back or she was going to wind up getting hurt.

Early Sunday morning, Natasha had pretty much given up on attempting to sleep and made herself comfortable with a book with the vague hope that it would exhaust her to the point where she just passed out. The last thing she expected was a text from Steve, but at nearly two in the morning, her phone buzzed on her nightstand and she dove right for it.

Ten minutes later, Natasha was climbing onto the back of Steve's bike. She wore a pair of tights, boots, a lumpy sweater she'd stolen from Clint at one point, and a jacket as well. She was actually glad for the helmet he gave her, because the wind was harsh when they started to move. Eventually, he parked and they headed into an all-night diner, where the one waitress told them to sit wherever they wanted.

They chose a booth at the back and ordered coffee because they were both gluttons for punishment; either that or they were both of the opinion that staying up would be easier than trying to sleep at this point. Sans-makeup and with her hair pulled into a haphazard braid, Natasha was acutely aware of the fact that she would never dress this way for a date _or_ a meeting with a fuck buddy. And if that was the case, just what did she consider Steve?

“So,” he mused. “I'm thinking pancakes. Anything catch your eye?”

Natasha glanced at him over the top of her menu. “You're awfully perky at two in the morning.”

Steve smiled and shrugged. “Comes with the territory. Now, about those pancakes...”

“Pancakes sound good,” she relented, eventually ordering the same as Steve when the waitress showed up; pancakes with bacon. It was a less impressive amount of food than he usually ate, but she figured that had something to do with the late hour.

Folding her arms over her chest, Natasha leaned back and watched him for a moment before asking the obvious. “What are you doing up so late anyway? And did you install cameras in my house or something, because I'm not always up and the one time I can't sleep, you happen to text me? Pretty suspicious, Rogers.”

Steve had the good sense to look a little sheepish about it. He even rubbed at the back of his neck as he answered her. “I just got lucky, I guess,” he mused. “I can't tell you how many times I thought about texting you in the middle of the night like this, but I figured you'd be sleeping, so...” He sighed. “I just went out on a limb and tried. Lucky, lucky me.”

Natasha smiled, but she wanted to ask him why he was up so often in the middle of the night. That being said, he'd obviously evaded her question the first time... Maybe it was one of those things that Steve just didn't want to talk about. “Lucky you indeed,” she countered. “Two in the morning and you're still managing to pick me up.”

“Heh. I have my moments.”

Their food came quickly (as expected, since no one else was really in the diner) and they ate while they talked about various things; mostly Natasha's job, her hobbies, her dance training. Steve didn't offer much about himself without prompting and even with prompting, Natasha felt like she was woefully behind as far as getting to know him went. Not... that it mattered.

“I guess I was just having one of those nights, you know?” She mused at some point. “Go to bed and sleep for a little while, but you wake up and you think... One glass of water and I'll go back to sleep. But then it never happens.”

Steve smiled understandingly, but there was a clear hesitation before he ventured on. “Yeah, I know what that's like,” he mused. “Ah, it happens more often for me, that's all. Wake up... and I can't get back to sleep.”

But why? What was waking him up all the time? The question must have been pretty clear on her face because Steve hastily picked up his coffee and took a long sip. “It's, uh... I still get nightmares sometimes,” he said, keeping his eyes uncharacteristically low. “You remember when I told you that I lived off my pension in part while I got back on my feet?”

She did remember that. Natasha nodded and leaned forward a little bit to encourage him. “Yeah. Go on.”

Steve sighed. “Well, what you've gotta know is that I was dealing with PTSD. I, uh... I was considered killed in action for six months before they found me, stayed in a coma for another three before I was able to recover. I'm not violent or anything, but I've got nightmares and flashbacks and all that fun stuff.” He shrugged a little and took another bite of his food like he needed something else to focus on. “It's gotten a lot better,” he added. “A big improvement since I met you, no doubt. But sometimes I'm just up all night. I've kind of gotten used to it.”

Natasha just kind of stared at him for a moment. All joking aside, all implications of this little relationship aside, she was just... kind of in awe right now. And she didn't know what to say, but she did know that he wouldn't want her fawning over him for it; that just wasn't the kind of person Steve was. “I'm glad it's getting better for you,” she said sincerely, even reaching over to touch his hand in a moment of rare, genuine affection. “Text me anytime, okay?”

Steve nodded quickly, but it was clear that he wanted to get as far away from that topic as possible. “So, uh... is this how you always dress when you're not working or going to formal events?” He asked, indicating Natasha's thick sweater. “Is that even yours?”

“For your information, I happen to be something of a collector of sweaters like this one. I'll get around to stealing one of yours, don't worry. It'll happen.”

Amused by that, Steve grinned and gave her a look. “So, which guy did that one belong to?”

Natasha smirked. “Well. He was definitely one of the important ones,” she said easily. “We had a great time in bed together, but that was years ago. I mean, I met him when I was...” She thought on it for a moment and groaned. “Nineteen? I feel so old right now.”

Steve blinked. “Oh, so this is from a-- a first love or something.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows for a moment before laughing out loud. “No. No, he was... something different. Sort of became my best friend, and I haven't been able to get rid of him since. I think you met him at Pepper's wedding. Clint? Laura's husband?”

“Oh! I didn't-- realize,” he said, shaking his head. “He seems like a nice guy. Little weird, but nice.”

“That's Clint for you.” She nodded and finished off her pancakes with ease in favor of sitting back to sip her coffee. “But he definitely wasn't my first love. I wouldn't put him down like that.”

Steve tipped his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Shit. Natasha supposed she shouldn't have said that, but hey. They were _sharing_ tonight, apparently. “My first love, if you even want to call it that, was a man named Alexei,” she explained. “This is in Russia, remember. He was about... twenty years older than me and he wasn't very nice, in the end.” She shifted in her seat, not so much bothered by actually telling the story, but annoyed that she was bothered by the idea that Steve would react badly. “He married me when I was seventeen and he was thirty five,” she continued. “It lasted for almost two years before I met Clint and got the hell out of there.”

Steve looked like he'd been slapped, but Natasha trudged on. “In case you're wondering, we never actually got divorced. I ran, and someone in the Russian Mafia put a bullet in his head. Far as I'm concerned, he deserved worse.”

There was this heavy silence that fell over their booth and Natasha wondered if this would be what made him leave. Her early life had been a series of disappointments and rejections; parents killed when she was a child, pushed from orphanage or orphanage before Alexei found her, manipulated into an abusive marriage. Once she settled into life in America, it had become something of an entertaining thing to see how far she could push someone before they up and left her.

But unlike the men she'd scared off after one night stands out of some misplaced insistence that she stay ultimately alone, Natasha began to worry that he would go. What if Steve was the one she wasn't supposed to scare away? What if she'd opened up to him in such a plain way because he made her feel comfortable and not entirely scared shitless that she was making another mistake?

Eventually, Steve opened his mouth. Then he closed it again, his brow furrowing. He looked like he didn't know what to say and honestly, Natasha understood why. Her past wasn't something most people could digest. “It's okay, you know,” she continued. “I'm fine. Tougher than I look.”

Steve immediately reached out for her hand and just held it for a few long moments- moments that felt like ages as Natasha waited for him to speak. “I'm just-- real sorry you had to go through all that,” he said slowly, like he was nervous he might say the wrong thing. “And you _are_ tough. God, you're like a fuckin' Amazon or something. A short Amazon.”

Natasha felt like she couldn't breathe. He said the requisite apology, the same thing the one counselor she'd ever been to see had said, but then he continued. He told her she was strong. And he made a joke.

She was speechless, opening and closing her mouth like a goddamn fish for something like a full minute; that is, long enough for the waitress to come back to them and offer them more coffee. Steve went to answer, but Natasha interrupted him. “No, just the check, please,” she said, keeping her eyes on Steve.

Once Steve had paid (which was a habit Natasha really wanted to break him of) Natasha got up, put her coat back on, and grabbed his hand to drag him bodily out of the diner. “Nat, what--”

“Shut up.” She dragged him right down the block to where they'd parked and once he was on the bike, climbed on and told him in no uncertain terms to go back to his place.

Steve followed Natasha’s directions without any other question, but the intensity with which she shoved him against the wall when they got inside was still a surprise. And he felt like it begged for some kind of explanation, but he wasn’t going to push his luck; not yet, anyway. But she was practically tearing his shirt off and unbuckling his belt while she kissed him like they might never see each other again and it was all a bit much. That is, it was a bit much because he didn’t understand the urgency.

With that in mind, Steve kind of tried to slow it down in the way they kissed, dragging Natasha close and settling his hands on her lower back with her shirt still gripped in one of them. She made this sound, kind of like a pained whimper, and Steve swallowed it down in favor of deepening their kiss a little more.

Natasha knew, of course, that he was blindsided by this sudden burst of neediness, but she didn’t care. Maybe it was just because she felt like she needed to do this to keep him or maybe it was because she was beginning to feel things she didn’t entirely understand. Either way, she wanted him more than she ever had. And when it was all over, there was little she could do to deny that they’d basically just made love. The very thought of it!

Afterwards, once Steve had fallen asleep with his legs tangled in the sheets and his hair messed from her fingers, Natasha laid still and wondered. She had a million and one things to think about, but… all she could seem to focus on was Steve. Turning onto her side with the sheets bunched up under her arms, she just watched him for a while. He was so big; all muscle and loose limbs wrapped idly around the pillow he was currently using. His back and torso was all stretched out and she could see just a peek of the swell of his ass. He looked peaceful and for a moment, she wondered how he looked when he woke up after a nightmare. She wondered if she could be the one to comfort him so he didn’t have to do this alone anymore.

Sleeping soundly, Steve didn’t even notice when she got up, grabbing one of his tshirts as she silently padded right out of the room. Left unsupervised, Natasha did something that she’d never actually bothered to do at a man’s place before; she snooped. First, the bathroom. The medicine cabinet was stocked with the usual stuff; shaving cream, aspirin, band-aids and the like. But upon closer inspection, she found two prescription bottles of Ambien. Well, that could be what helped him sleep, right?

She grabbed a bottle and two seconds of inspection proved exactly one thing; it was full except for one pill. Natasha gathered that he’d tried it at some point and realized that he didn’t ever want to try it again. He also had condoms stashed in a drawer, and an unnecessary amount of toothpaste, which made her think he might have found it on sale.

Leaving the bathroom, she headed towards the living room and began perusing the bookshelf. She took into account the fact that she didn’t know of any other languages he spoke and decided that it was still a good representation of books; mostly history, some novels, some books on famous artists. She found his laptop sitting on the coffee table and sat in front of it for a long time before she decided to just see what she could see. She opened it expecting a password and found none, which threw her off a little bit. How trusting was this guy? Now, she wasn’t going to snoop in his computer.

She wasn’t. Except that one desktop icon caught her eye and she opened it, bringing up a page titled ‘PTSD and Dating: How to Make Your Partner Understand’. And that was enough. She closed it up again and took a deep breath before traipsing towards the kitchen. That is, until she noticed the pictures.

There weren’t a lot, but she looked at a picture that must have been Steve’s mother- she looked just like him, the same kind eyes and the same sweet smile. Then there was a picture of a brunette woman giving the camera a big, cheesy smile. She was pretty. Natasha immediately wanted to know who she was and what part she played in Steve’s life. Another frame had Steve in the middle of a trio of men; the one on his left had long hair and an easy smile and the one on his right had dark skin and the kind of smirk that told her he might have something of an attitude. They all looked very happy.

He also had another picture from when he was a kid; at least, she assumed that was him. He was so _small_ that Natasha had to do a double take before she realized that the little boy in the picture had the same sweet smile as the guy she’d just slept with. Beside him sat another boy with brown hair and his arm thrown over Steve’s tiny shoulders. They were obviously best friends. Practically brothers.

The desk was what caught her eye next; old and sturdy, it held a shelf filled with books and papers filed in between. Curious, Natasha chose one of the books and tugged it out so she could look inside--- only to find that she was staring at a picture of herself. All of a sudden, snooping didn’t feel like such a good idea anymore. Her heart started to really pound as she flipped through the book; several pictures of her, but also pictures of their friends, of the skyline outside his apartment, of strangers in the park. He was an artist for real, not just some pretender. He _saw_ people.

It wasn’t until she reached the kitchen that Natasha realized what she was actually trying to accomplish here. It wasn’t only that she wanted to get to know him a little more, but also that she was trying to find something wrong with him. Yeah, he had problems. The whole PTSD thing wasn’t exactly a bonus, if one were listing the positive attributes of a prospective partner. But the way he dealt with it, the way he spoke about it… She couldn’t actually think of a single reason she shouldn’t trust him with her heart other than her knowledge of men and mistakes she’d made in the past.

The kitchen was kind of her last resort here, since the bathroom and the living room had been normal.

If this didn’t work, she might have to snoop around the bedroom.

But as it was, Natasha found what she was looking for in the cabinet right over the counter. His fridge had been pretty boring; beer, milk, a few containers of leftovers from various takeout places, some tupperware containers with bits of fruit or the remains of home-cooked meals. He had ice cream in his freezer, along with a couple of TV dinners that he’d probably have to eat at least two at a time to feel full. He also had frozen meat; steak, burgers, chicken… God, this guy was a real person. Someone who went to the grocery store and bought a shit-ton of chicken when there was a sale.

But in the cabinet, Natasha finally came upon something that really made her stop. Staring back at her was a little package of the tea she preferred. It was still sealed with plastic. She could remember the conversation they’d had after their little mid-day tryst.

“ _I can make you coffee if you want,” Steve offered, serving their takeout right there in bed._

_Natasha started unpacking the bag and glanced up at him. “I’d love some tea, if you have it.”_

“ _Uh. I have… Bigelow? Tea’s supposed to calm you down. I tried, but I always go back to coffee.” He looked pretty sheepish, but Natasha brushed right on by and smiled easily._

“ _Normally, I prefer Lipton tea, but for you? I’ll take the Bigelow.”_

And now he had fucking Lipton tea. It was practically mocking her, all bright and yellow and right there like he’d gone out especially to make sure that she had the tea she wanted the next time she stayed over. Because he was _confident_ that she’d stay over again? Because he was claiming her somehow?

Natasha stood in the kitchen for a long time thinking about how terrible the other option that came to mind would be. Because there was one more option. It might be that he genuinely wanted to make sure she was taken care of. And honestly… she wasn’t sure which one was the worst scenario. But she put the tea back exactly where she’d gotten it from, closed the cabinet without a sound, and silently made her way back to his bedroom. Steve was still unconscious and she slipped right into bed beside him, lifting his arm so she could arrange herself under it and burrow right into his chest where it was warm.

In the morning, she wouldn't mention the tea.

 


	5. Luke and Jessica

The next morning, she got up early and made breakfast (meaning eggs and toast, coffee and tea because that was literally all she could handle) which meant she was treated to the sight of a sleepy Steve wandering into the kitchen still rubbing at his eyes. He said nothing about the tea, and neither did Natasha. But they had breakfast together and if Natasha was being honest, she might have said that it was _comfortable_ to be that domestic with him.

Over the next two weeks, Natasha heard from Steve at least every other day. He would text her about little things; how good his lunch had been, a selfie from the gym, two pictures of a dog he met on his run, complaints about a stupid author he was dealing with for work, etc. Only twice did his texts turn into meeting up—once being after that selfie from the gym and once being pretty late at night when he said he was stuck watching Lord of the Rings and couldn’t go to bed until it was over. The first time, he’d come right to her place after a shower and the second time, she’d met him at his place so they could have sex right there on the couch with the movie still playing. That same time, she fell asleep with her head on his thigh and his arm resting over her chest.

Thanksgiving was interesting. Steve sent Natasha a picture of a table full of food, but he didn’t invite her. And the thing was that she wasn’t sure she would have said yes, but that begged the question… Who was he eating with? Did he have a secret family or something? Because she knew his parents were gone and he didn’t have any siblings… In any case, Natasha went to Tony and Pepper’s place that day along with a few other friends and they celebrated on their own.

The last week in November, Natasha received another text from Steve and it sounded downright suspicious from the very beginning. But as he rambled on, she realized that he might not be trying to get anything past her; he might just be nervous.

They didn’t see each other until that day. Natasha had been super busy at work and Steve had finally gone fulltime at the firm he’d previously been freelancing for, so he spent his time settling in and catching up on all the projects they were throwing his way. That Saturday, Natasha got ready for the wedding with everything wrong about this in mind. It was a date. Like, he’d even said something about being his ‘date’ to the wedding. Did that make it official?

Either way, she’d chosen a dress in a deep purple for the party. Based on what she'd heard about the couple and their wedding, she didn’t think there was anything wrong with maybe showing off a little leg. Just a little though. Her dress hugged all her curves. It began with a strapless top that kept her rather modest, hugged close to her waist and fit snugly over her hips. It really gave her a solid silhouette true to her own figure, but it did fall down to just above her knees. The lace overlay just added a bit of class to the dress and paired with gorgeous black pumps, she figured Steve would immediately comment on her outfit. 

But that wasn’t what he noticed first. Nope. The first thing Steve did when Natasha came out to meet him was gawk a little bit. “You cut your hair,” he pointed out. “Wow, when did you do that?”

Natasha tucked her shorter hair back behind her ear and gave him a little shrug regardless of the fact that she really, really wanted him to like it. She'd done it on a whim; on Wednesday evening after leaving work, she'd just gone into her usual salon and asked to cut something like six inches off her hair. Now, where it had been down over her shoulders in soft waves, the ends brushed the tops of her shoulders instead. Of course, she didn’t do it _for_ him, but… she still wanted him to think it looked nice. “Couple of days ago. Do you like it?”

Steve stepped closer and reached up to touch her hair, very lightly tugging at the ends for a moment as he gave her a wide smile. “It looks great,” he said warmly. “You still look as beautiful as ever.”

Pride swelled up in Natasha’s chest and she straightened up to head out with him, climbing into the back of a cab so they could head way, way uptown and into Harlem. She kept her jacket pulled tight around her, but leaning into Steve gave her most of the warmth she needed. When they arrived, he took her hand to help her out and she even let him hold it as they made their way into a place called 'Harlem Tavern'. The bride and groom, Steve had explained, were a little less traditional and something fancy and formal just wasn't their style. Natasha walked into the place expecting two very down to earth people, especially since the only sign that there was a wedding at all was a chalkboard sign outside announcing: 'Cage-Jones Wedding? This way!' She suspected it wasn't the bride's doing.

Hanging their coats up, Steve and Natasha were ushered into a warmly lit room with a bar on one side and a long line of tables on the other. There was soft music playing; jazz, though Natasha couldn't guess the song or the artist, to be honest, and there was some room to dance in the middle of the room. The place wasn't even completely rented out; a few other couples and small parties were settled at tables on the other side of the bar, and there were guests for the wedding already sitting around sharing drinks and the finger food the bar served. But what caught her eye almost immediately was the couple currently sitting at the bra and enjoying a drink together.

The man was huge; bigger than Steve and taller as well, with muscles so big they were bulging even under his suit. The guy looked like he was made of steel. Beside him, his wife was equally as intimidating, but all wrapped up in a deceivingly small package. She was thin, but definitely at least five inches taller than Natasha and there was clear definition in the muscles on her exposed arms. Her black hair was all wrapped up into a messy bun at the back of her head and she'd kept her makeup simple; just a swipe of red lipstick and a little eyeliner to make her eyes pop.

(Suddenly, Steve’s description of the couple made a lot of sense. He was a friend Steve met at the gym, but he actually owned and operated a bar somewhere in Harlem; not the bar they were standing in, but _a_ bar. And she was a UFC fighter who started her career in underground rings where she banked off the fact that no one saw someone as slight as she was and actually thought she was a threat.)

And the dress! Natasha kind of wanted to touch the dress. It was obviously vintage; ornate on top, with a plunging neckline and a little belt that nipped in at her waist. The beading went down the front until it gave way to a long, flowing skirt. But what made the outfit complete was definitely the beaten up leather jacket she pulled on and left hanging over her shoulders, and the impressive way she knocked back a shot as Steve and Natasha walked up to them.

“I thought the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride beforehand,” Steve pointed out.

The man, Luke, turned and grinned widely, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “You try telling her about tradition. Go on, I dare you.”

“You make it sound like I don't like any traditions,” the woman answered. Jessica, Natasha reminded herself. “I like _some_ traditions.”

Luke raised his eyebrows and looked down at her. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Like... our Sunday morning tradition,” she said teasingly, giving him a very suggestive smile.

Steve blinked. “Church?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows at Steve just as the couple turned to give him the best simultaneous ‘Oh, hun’ looks she’d ever seen. “I don’t think they mean church,” she said teasingly, nudging Steve’s side. “C’mon, soldier. Let’s go get you a drink.” She looked to the happy couple and smiled. “Really nice to meet you, by the way.”

Once they were settled at a little table with whiskey in Steve’s hand and wine in Natasha’s, the latter felt comfortable to lean a little closer to her ‘date’ and give him a smirk as she indicate the couple they’d just been speaking to. “I bet they fuck like _gods_ ,” she observed, and sat back as Steve nearly spat out his drink.

Instead, he covered his mouth and gave her an amused look as he swallowed. “Because he’s so big?” He ventured. “I mean, I’ll have to agree to that. The guy’s practically indestructible. I know; I’ve spotted for him at the gym.”

“Well, there’s that, yeah,” Natasha mused. “But look at her. She’s probably a lot stronger than she looks.” And based on the way he pulled her against him right then, based on the way she willingly let their chests crash together and happily wound her arms up around his neck… Yeah, they probably had a really satisfying sex life.

“Do you always speculate on people’s sex lives…or are they special?”

Natasha huffed. “What, you don’t think it’s interesting?” She turned her gaze to another couple; a young woman with red hair wearing a sweet blue dress beside a man who looked like he might tear apart anyone who looked at her wrong and have exactly zero regret afterwards. “Take those two, for example. He looks really rough, she looks like she wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She studied them for a moment and smiled. “I bet they have really sweet sex most of the time. Because he’s just a big softie deep down. Like, intense… but sweet.”

As she finished, Steve glanced from her to the couple in question and watched as the woman put her hand on the man’s cheek, wordlessly dragging him in for a little, chaste kiss. He smiled, Natasha was sure she could see a little color on his cheeks, and Steve grunted in agreement. “Weird. Do another one.”

Sitting back, Natasha sipped at her wine and perused the assembled couples for another target. Eventually, she found the back of a man’s head and a woman leaning towards him, one perfectly manicured hand sliding onto his thigh. “Okay, those two,” she pointed out, resting her chin on Steve’s shoulder. “That’s love/hate if I ever saw it. Look how he’s not responding to her advances, but he _wants_ to, you know? You can feel it.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe _you_ can feel it,” he mumbled. “I can’t feel a thing.”

“You’re not opening yourself up to it enough,” she insisted playfully. “Look. His hand tightened on his drink and he’s still smiling, but he hasn’t actually---“

Just then, the man turned and Natasha stopped talking in favor of heaving out a long sigh. Shit. She knew him. And she knew him very, very well. “Nat?” Steve spoke up and tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Something wrong?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “No, no. I just—think I saw someone I know, that’s all.” She swallowed down the rest of her wine and set the glass down with a click. Thankfully, the music started to play and she had the perfect way to get out of this. “Let’s dance.”

Steve happily took her hand and allowed her to lead him onto the dance floor, all talk of the someone she might know forgotten in favor of trying to keep up to the sway of the music. Eventually, though, the music gave way to an announcement that dinner was served and they made their way down a buffet line that offered so much food, there didn’t seem to be a way to _not_ come back for more. As people who were always looking for a challenge, Steve and Natasha decided to get a little of everything that looked good (which was basically everything) and just share their plates. Since it was all very family-style, they didn’t feel it would be in bad form.

Sitting together with two massive plates in front of them, Steve and Natasha went to town on everything from absolutely perfect fried chicken to delicious, buttery cornbread to the kind of brownies that would keep Natasha in a sugar coma for days. It was all so good that by the time they finished, even Natasha had to lean back and just take a second to digest before excusing herself to visit the bathroom and touch up her makeup.

She was just coming out again when the inevitable happened. “Natasha?”

Shit. The redhead turned to find her own reflection staring back at her from Matt’s glasses. He was smiling too; the same cocky grin that had gotten her into bed with him in the first place. “Matt,” she answered. No point in lying. For a blind guy, he always seemed to know exactly what was going on around him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He huffed out a short laugh and only smiled further. “At least you get to see _something_ , right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and went in for a hug, leaning up to kiss his cheek as well. They hadn’t _dated_ , per se, but Matt was the kind of conquest that Natasha loved; personable, no agenda, really hot body.

“Do you know the bride or the groom?” She wondered, trying to piece together how he’d even come into contact with either of these people. “Let me guess. Love triangle?”

Matt laughed again and shook his head. “Same way I meet most people. I represented Jessica in a trial against her ex---her ex. And won.”

Of course he had. All the overpaid lawyers at SI couldn’t compare to Matt’s talent in court; that was something Natasha had seen with her own two eyes. “Well, it's good to see you,” she said easily. “I'll let you get back to your-- whoever that was.”

He'd always been so intuitive. “How do you know the happy couple?”

“Ah, I don't. I just came with someone.”

Pause. “Is that why you didn't come over right away?”

Natasha pressed her lips together. “What makes you think I even saw you before now?”

“I’m thinking that since you mentioned the woman who was talking to me, you definitely saw me with her,” he pointed out. Natasha swore in her head and reminded herself to be just a little more careful when coming up with frivolous, totally useless lies.

“Who is she, anyway?” She ventured, daring to change the subject. “She looked very into you.”

“You remember that ex I told you about? Kind of psychotic, totally dramatic, made my life hell?”

Natasha blinked. “No way,” she breathed, turning around to spot the other woman staring blatantly at them from her seat at the bar. She was beautiful, no doubt, but her eyes spoke of something a little more violent- like she was going to hurt Natasha if she didn’t step away from Matt. Natasha didn’t, but she did smirk a little bit as she turned back. “That’s Elektra? Wow. No wonder you went back to her.”

Matt quirked his head to the side with an amused smile and Natasha followed up. “She’s gorgeous,” she explained. “I mean, I’d fuck her.”

“Maybe you would, but I’m not getting into that all over again—“

“Who do you think you’re kidding?” Natasha countered. “I might not be the great Matt Murdock, but I can read people too, you know. And you’re totally taking her home tonight for some freaky, possessive sex.”

Matt sighed deeply and shook his head a little. “Shut up. Introduce me to your next vict—I mean ‘date’.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and nudged him a little, but ultimately let him take her arm so she could guide him over to Steve- and coincidentally right past a glowering Elektra. “Steve,” she said, clearing her throat. “This is Matt Murdock. He’s an old friend. Matt, this is Steve Rogers, aka my next ‘victim’.”

HA! That was so much better than having to negotiate what she was supposed to call Steve; friend, boyfriend, date, fuck buddy?? The options were endless. Steve stood up right away and offered his hand, which Matt took without pause for a firm shake. “Nice to meet you,” the former said politely. “I’d say I’ve heard a lot about you, but… I don’t want to start this on a lie.”

Matt laughed softly like he always did and nodded along. “I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s nice to meet you, Steve. I’d tell you to blink twice if you’re being held against your will, but… I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Steve laughed, but he looked like he wasn’t sure if he was actually allowed to. “So, uh… How do you two know each other? Is this the ex you mentioned before..?”

Natasha nodded. “Ex something or other,” she remarked, earning another smile from Matt.

“She’s just so charming. I don’t know how I ever resisted her.” His sarcasm was on point, but Natasha knew that it was said with love—or… well, some version of love. Maybe just respect. Either way, he was just teasing.

Steve’s smiled and huffed out a laugh, but he looked… unsure of something. Natasha vowed to find out exactly what the problem was later on, when they were alone again. “Matt’s a lawyer,” she interjected, moving to stand beside Steve and even placing one hand on his chest like it was totally normal for her to lean into him the way she was. “A defense attorney, actually. One of the best.”

“Aw, you don’t have to say that,” he laughed, waving her off.

Just then, they were joined by three others; the couple from earlier comprised of the young woman and the tough-looking man, and Elektra, who threaded her arm through Matt’s and leaned right into him like she belonged there. “Matthew,” she murmured, accent lilting every smooth word. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Steve and Natasha. Guys, this is Elektra---“

The redhead beside them stuck out her hand. “And I’m Karen, and this is Frank.”

Frank offered a small smile and nodded his head once. With all the introductions made and handshakes exchanged, the group settled into a comfortable conversation about the couple and various other weddings they’d been to. Steve stayed relatively out of it because he was just too busy stealing glances at Frank. Frank, who held himself like a soldier. Frank, who had the same faraway look in his eyes that Steve saw in the mirror sometimes.

“What about you, Steve?” Karen ventured. “What do you do?”

Apparently they’d already changed the topic. “I, uh… I work as an illustrator at a publishing company,” he said easily. “Can’t believe you can even get that kind of job without a degree, but they gave me a shot.”

“Oh? So you weren’t always going into the arts. What did you originally go to school for?”

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t actually go to college. Joined the army right out of high school and when I came back, that was all I could think of, you know? Like I’ve always been interested in art. I’ve been drawing since I was a kid, like back when I was 100 pounds soaking wet and drawing in bed while I was sick… I did an interview, gave them a portfolio, and here I am.”

Finally, Frank spoke up. “What division?”

Steve met his eyes and smiled a little. “Infantry. The 107th, and then I was transferred into Special Ops.”

“Marines,” he answered.

The both nodded for a moment before wordlessly excusing themselves from the group and venturing back out onto the street so Frank could smoke and they could talk a little bit. Natasha was left wondering how much she didn’t know about Steve. They came back maybe half an hour later, just in time to rejoin their dates as they watched Jessica and Luke cut their cake. The couple ‘fed’ each other (i.e., smushed cake in each other’s faces and laughed so hard it looked a little painful) and Steve chanced putting his arm around Natasha’s waist, dragging her in for a little kiss and a wide smile.

“What was that for?” She wondered aloud, both hands landing on his chest and staying there.

Steve shrugged a little bit. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Well, he was sweet. Almost too sweet. But Natasha leaned right into him and smiled despite herself, only pulling apart when Jessica's maid of honor called for all the unmarried women to gather together for the bouquet toss. Natasha didn't move onto the dance floor- that is, until Karen took her arm and pulled her forward. Fuck. Feigning interest, she positioned herself off to the side where the bouquet was seriously unlikely to ever land... And yet.

Despite her attempts to avoid the damn thing, Jessica’s bouquet fell right at Natasha’s feet. For a second, she was sure that her face looked practically comical: wide eyes that quickly turned into an are-you-fucking-kidding-me expression directed right to Steve. Seriously? This was what? Bouquet number three? “Looks like you’re next!” Karen laughed, nudging the bouquet into Natasha’s hands, and then Natasha towards Steve.

She went, but only because she didn’t want to be the center of attention anymore, and gave Steve a look. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

Steve laughed. “I didn’t say anything!”

“But you were thinking it,” she countered, poking his chest. “You were definitely thinking it.”

He shrugged and Natasha shook her head at him before nudging him back over towards the bar. Two more drinks and both Steve and Natasha were feeling it a little bit, which was definitely why Natasha found herself in Steve’s lap with her arms draped loosely around his shoulders. And four shots later, Natasha was definitely loose-lipped enough to ask the worst question she could have possibly thought of when sober.

“Why d’you have that tea?”

Steve swallowed his latest mouthful of whiskey and raised his eyebrows at her. “Huh?”

Natasha could tell he was feigning ignorance- even when she was really tipsy, he was a shitty liar. “The tea,” she repeated. “ _My_ tea. Why do you have it?”

“Because you said that was the kind you liked,” he answered simply, obviously trying to avoid the deeper question of why he’d bothered to go out and get the tea she liked when they weren’t even a couple. “Something wrong with getting the kind you like?”

Natasha pressed her lips together and averted her eyes, electing to not answer at all.

“Would you rather keep drinking the tea you _don’t_ like?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha looked back to Steve and leaned in close. “You’re gonna take me home tonight,” she murmured smoothly. She wasn’t drunk enough to slur, but there was definitely a lessening of inhibitions considering she was _asking_ him to end this night on a good note instead of just making it happen. “Right? Gotta put that tea to good use.”

She giggled and Steve had to smile, even going so far as to lean in and peck her on the lips. “Yeah, of course,” he answered. “I’ll take you home, Nat.”

Not too much later, they headed over to Jessica and Luke to say goodbye and then sought out the rest of their acquaintances to say goodbye as well. It was actually Karen that suggested the four of them get dinner sometime and before Steve could answer, Natasha said that sounded like a great idea—which was one hell of a surefire way to know that she’d had just a little too much to drink. All that aside, they left in good spirits and Steve ushered Natasha into a cab so they could head home.

He gave her address thinking he could tuck her in and go home, but Natasha protested. “Your place.”

Steve glanced over to her and frowned lightly, but eventually told the cabbie to change course to his place instead. When they arrived and got upstairs, it was with something of a heavy heart that he walked her into the bedroom and gestured to the bed itself. “Go ahead and make yourself at home,” he said.

But Natasha? No, Natasha had other things in mind. Just a little unsteady in her heels, she moved closer and leaned up to kiss him, both arms wrapping around his neck for balance. Steve allowed it, but when she slid her hands down to start getting his belt undone, he stopped her. “Hey, hey,” he chuckled easily. “Not tonight, okay?”

Natasha frowned and tried again, sliding her hands up Steve’s chest to push his jacket off. He allowed that, but stopped her again when her hands went to his belt. “How about you get undressed?” He suggested instead. “Go ahead and get undressed, and get into bed. I’m just going to get a glass of water, and I’ll be back.”

He leaned down to kiss her briefly on the lips and retreated. She could hear him wandering into the kitchen and turning on the sink for the glass of water he'd mentioned. Natasha didn't even really question things. She got undressed and left her dress and bra in a pile on the floor in favor of grabbing one of Steve's tshirts to pull on over her panties. Shoes were left strewn on the floor and she crawled into bed without any hesitation at all.

And that was where Steve found her: curled up in bed under all his covers, holding the pillow close, totally unconscious. Unbeknownst to her, Steve smiled fondly and leaned down to kiss her temple before leaving her to get undressed himself. He stripped down to a pair of light pajama pants and crawled into the bed as well. And yeah, he laid on his side, facing her, and fell asleep almost immediately.

The next morning, Natasha woke up with a headache. The pounding in her head was only matched by the pounding of her heart the very second she realized that she was all wrapped up in Steve's arms, cheek resting over his heart, and _clothed_. Wait. It took her all of ten seconds to realize that they hadn't had sex last night and very slowly, the events proceeding her passing out in his bed came back to her.

He'd turned her down for sex because he respected her too much to take advantage while she was drunk. Steve had allowed her to come home with him, put her to bed on her own, and got in beside her like they were a fucking couple. Were they a _couple_? How did this happen without her noticing?

Half asleep and panicking, Natasha slipped right out of bed at some God-awful hour of the morning, stole his tshirt to wear over her dress, arranged an Uber, and got the hell out of there. There was no tea that morning, no naked cuddling, and definitely no heart-to-heart concerning exactly what they _were_ to each other. Maybe she was being cruel by leading Steve on? Maybe they needed to stop this before _Steve_ got hurt.

For an entire week, Natasha heard nothing at all from Steve. On the one hand, she felt very much like she'd taken something good and fucked it all up. But on the other hand, she felt free. It was the latter that concerned her most because if being along made her feel _free,_ was she destined to just always be alone? Had Alexei completely ruined her? It was actually the next Friday when she came home to an invitation to Clint and Laura's renewing of their vows that she realized she had a perfectly good reason to text him.

And when she found herself grabbing her phone immediately, it definitely wasn't because she just wanted to see him to make things better. Natasha was interested in a purely _businesslike_ arrangement between them right now.

Meeting up with Steve to talk about what picture he ought to draw for Clint and Laura's present turned into an hour long breakfast followed by a nice, long walk during which they did _not_ talk about Clint or Laura. That walk was also coincidentally followed by a make out session on a bench in some secluded area of Central Park and yes, Natasha did eventually have to stop them before they got too handsy. Apparently 'business' with Steve included soft kisses and a big hand on her thigh. After that, another week went by before the night of Steve's little dinner party.

God knows why Natasha agreed to this. It felt like she was just a glutton for punishment or something, but Steve had said that it was casual, so... why not? Right? Maybe he'd learned from the fact that she'd left him without comment the morning after Luke and Jessica's wedding. Maybe it was just that he'd given up on trying to convince her to be with him when she was so clearly against it. But _was_ she clearly against it? Had Natasha been obvious enough? Probably not, considering how often they'd been out together and slept together and... Yeah, who was she kidding?

But she did show up at Steve's apartment on the night in question, dressed all neatly in jeans and boots and a nice, black sweater. She brought a cake for dessert and couldn't understand why she was nervous.

That is, until Steve opened the door wearing an apron and a warm, welcoming smile. All of a sudden, she understood _exactly_ why. “Hey, Nat,” he greeted. “Come on in, I've got potatoes waiting.” She came in and followed him into the kitchen once she'd hung her jacket up, safely setting the cake down on the counter while he got back to his pot of potatoes.

“So, what are we having?” She ventured, trying her best to completely ignore what they hadn't talked about, not to mention the fact that they hadn't really seen each other since they'd met up to talk about the picture she wanted him to draw. “It smells delicious.”

Steve scooped up a bit of the mashed potatoes he was working on and held it out for her to try. Once she'd taken the spoonful and nodded approvingly, his shoulders relaxed a bit and he smiled. “So, mashed potatoes and this amazing steak I picked up the other day. Plus string beans and salad.”

“Well, you've certainly been busy,” she remarked, moving to take a seat at the table to wait. She watched as Steve got the potatoes into a bowl and left them rest on the side while he melted some butter in pan, then dumped in some garlic followed by a truly massive amount of string beans. And that was when the other couple arrived.

Natasha got the door and ushered them in, immediately complimenting Karen on the little blue dress she was wearing as Frank hung their coats up. They presented Steve with a bottle of wine and eventually they all sat down at the table with Steve serving up a dinner that could definitely feed more than four people. But with his appetite and Frank's appetite, it didn't even look like they'd be privy to many leftovers.

And hey, the conversation was pretty normal. Karen talked about her work, Frank talked about his dog. Steve talked about this new project he was working on that was all about drawing strangers and how he'd sort of been offered space at a gallery-- that in itself was news to Natasha, who pushed around the food on her plate while they all congratulated him. And of course, Natasha told a few anecdotes about various things going on at SI- mostly involving Tony and Tony's shenanigans.

When dinner was over and they'd made their way through an entire bottle of wine, Natasha and Karen offered to clear the table while the boys headed outside to the stoop-- for a smoke, in Frank's case. Natasha couldn't actually imagine Steve smoking, but what did she know?

“So,” Karen mused as they piled the dishes into the sink. “How are you two getting along?”

Natasha glanced up at her and blinked. “Fine, I guess. I mean, we're no you and Frank, but...”

Karen had to smile at that, quickly gathering up their glasses and carrying them back into the kitchen. “But you two make such a cute couple,” she mused. “Steve seems so into you and I can't blame you for being into him. He's _very_ handsome.”

But... Wait.

“But there's just something about seeing a guy so _smitten_ , you know? You just look at him and you know that he thinks his girlfriend is the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“Hold on there a second,” Natasha answered quickly. “I'm not his girlfriend.”

Karen stopped and frowned, tipping her head to the side. “You're not?” She asked. “Are you sure he knows that? Because Frank definitely referred to you as Steve's girlfriend...”

Natasha was about to reiterate that no, she wasn't his girlfriend, but the boys came back in and all talk moved to something more pleasant and far less complicated; dessert. That word. Girlfriend. Natasha supposed she hadn't done anything to discourage use of that word, but she still couldn't convince herself to actually use it. She wasn't Steve's _girlfriend_ , they were just having fun together. Right?

Conversation thankfully focused on Steve and Frank's anecdotes from their time in the army, mostly about the men they'd served with and that sort of thing and by the time they were saying good night, Natasha had _almost_ forgotten what Karen had said. Almost, but not quite.

But she held it in when Steve suggested they do this again sometimes and since she was so very desperate to keep up appearances right now rather than actually talk about what was bothering her, she slept with him that night. It was as good as it always was, but Natasha felt hollow afterwards and even worse when she left in the morning, leaving a note that she had a meeting in the morning and couldn't be late.

That night, that one conversation with Karen was enough to convince Natasha that she had to take several huge steps back or risk something awful; something a lot like falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's new look: https://66.media.tumblr.com/8b77c68f49e501ed24e59c83033aabb8/tumblr_inline_of9nnlQDBi1rqq24f_540.jpg


	6. Sam and Bucky

The day after she fled like a coward, Natasha received a text from Steve that didn’t reference her leaving or ask her why she’d done so. Either he didn’t care, or he was the world’s most understanding person. But that didn’t make the text any less worrying. It was enough that she'd spent the last several hours questioning whether or not she'd done the right thing, berating herself for acting too quickly, congratulating herself for getting out of there while she still could... This just made it worse.

She had been invited to the Starks' party on Christmas Eve and she assumed he had too, but she wasn't going. No, and she wasn't answering him either because the idea that she might have to spend Christmas pretending to be okay with whatever they were doing together made her itch. There was even the brief thought that he'd been texting her to find out whether or not she'd go _with him._ His last text on the matter was upbeat, but she knew it was said with sadness. He texted her on Christmas Day anyway and told her to enjoy the day. It made her feel like a complete asshole.

Steve was just so sweet. He didn't deserve what she was doing to him, but she had to protect herself here. Five days later, her phone buzzed while she was out picking up dinner. This time was so much worse than the first one because it was definitely something she would have agreed to if she wasn’t so fucking emotionally stunted. With a heavy heart, she turned her phone off completely and didn’t look at it again until the next day.

Instead, she spent New Year’s Eve in front of her TV eating ramen all by herself. She wondered if Steve had found someone else to go out with, or if he was sitting alone at home too. Honestly, she wasn't sure which was the worse scenario.

On one particularly lonely night after that, Natasha got herself off thinking about Steve’s mouth and felt so dirty afterwards that she had to take a shower right away. She really did like him. The thing was that being someone’s girlfriend came with all sorts of expectations; questions about the future, about marriage and kids and trust. The real question, she supposed, wasn’t whether or not she could trust Steve with her heart, but whether or not she could trust herself with Steve’s.

What if she panicked five years down the line and ran? What if she had to leave immediately because something just didn’t feel right anymore? What happened if he _changed_ the way Alexei did?

Did she really think Steve was capable of something like that?

Steve, with his big, blue eyes and his sweet smile and his PTSD. He said he wasn’t violent, but what if that wasn’t a forever kind of thing? What if he snapped and hit her? Of course, she knew realistically that being afraid of every man wasn’t exactly a good way to live. She wasn’t frightened of Clint, though. Or Tony. It was just when they got too close. If one could fool her so thoroughly, then who was to say that another couldn’t get away with the same thing even if she _was_ older and wiser?

What if she just stopped being stupid and let him be with her?

It wasn’t like he’d even asked to be with her, but he _acted_ like a boyfriend. Right? Or what a boyfriend was supposed to be. He did the kinds of things that she assumed a good boyfriend would do; call her beautiful, take care of her in bed, go with her to fancy events, and so on. It wasn’t like he was demanding that she take care of him the way Alexei did, and she really _liked_ Steve…

The next one she got was sent at two in the morning and she knew he wasn't sleeping. It was four days into the New Year and she wondered if his nightmares had started acting up again because he was under more stress than usual. She wound up not sleeping any more that night either. And the text itself really upset her because Steve was _sweet_ and lonely and recovering and she was hurting him on purpose. What did that say about her?

He was worried about her. Natasha could easily picture him wondering if she was alright, worrying over her health or whatever. God, she could picture him fretting away about it. She could also picture him calling someone else to check up on her and the thought of it alone was just awful. But then... God, when she thought it absolutely couldn't get worse? Another text came just a few days later.

__

He was so stupid. Of course he hadn't done anything 'wrong'. All he'd done was start to care about someone he was spending a whole lot of time with! And if she wasn't so stunted, she might have been able to give that back to him. Why not, right? There was nothing wrong with him! Nothing at all. But Natasha didn't answer, even knowing very well that she would see him in just a couple of weeks at Clint and Laura's party. Or maybe he wouldn't come! He didn't owe her anything. If it were Natasha, she would have made sure she was literally anywhere else because things were going to be awkward.

Clint and Laura's event was being held on January 25th, just over a month after she'd run out on Steve. They'd rented out a rooftop restaurant in the city with big glass windows and a glass ceiling that would shield them from the cold wind, but allow everyone to see the clear night sky. Natasha showed up in the shortest dress she owned; a strapless black number that stopped just below the curve of her ass and showed off her legs for all they were worth. She paired that with a leather jacket she removed as soon as she got to the party and thick, black heels to match, plus a delicate gold chain and earrings to really pull the outfit together. She wasn't out to meet anyone, but she wanted to look damn good in the hopes that she might be able to have a good time.

Once she'd sought out Clint and Laura to give them their card (in lieu of a gift because she was stupid and had basically forgotten that Steve was supposed to be bringing her present), she wandered over to a good spot in the corner and sipped her first drink in solitude.

That is, until Steve came in and immediately caught her eye. He was wearing dark jeans and a black tshirt paired with the same beaten up leather jacket he always wore. Natasha was suddenly hit by the memory of how it smelled; like Steve's cologne and a hint of motor oil. In hand, he had a large canvas all wrapped up like a present and honestly, he didn't look like he was staying.

She watched as he looked around for a moment, spotted her, looked her up and down for a moment, and immediately made his way over. Maybe he'd tell her that he still wanted her. Maybe he'd sweep her right off her feet and carry her into the nearest bedroom. Maybe he'd---

“As promised,” he said quietly, sliding the canvas over to her and leaning it up against the wall beside her. “I hope they like it.” He looked sad. Natasha hated being able to read people sometimes, because he was smiling... but it didn't reach his eyes.

Finding her voice, she stood up straight and frowned. “You're not staying to find out?”

Steve licked his lips and averted his gaze, one hand rubbing the back of his neck until it turned an angry red color as he looked pretty much anywhere but at her. “Nah, I, uh... I'm not a fan of these kinds of parties,” he lied. And it was a terrible lie. “I'm just gonna go give them my best and get out of here.”

Because of her. He was leaving because she'd basically ex-communicated him. “You don't have to go,” she found herself saying. Natasha wondered if it was because she was turning a corner here or because Steve looked like the epitome of a kicked puppy.

To her surprise, he looked up and frowned. “I don't need your pity,” he told her. He looked insulted, like she really didn't understand him at all. “You made your point perfectly clear.”

Natasha huffed. “So, what? Just because we're not fucking, you can't be in the same place as me? That's a little immature, don't you think?”

Steve raised his eyebrows and blinked. “You wanna talk immature?” He countered. “Really?”

Pressing her lips together, she stared up at him with unyielding determination and crossed her arms over her chest. “You got something to say, Rogers? Say it.”

“Okay,” he answered. “Okay. You just _stopped_ talking to me. Like we're in elementary school or something. I had to make sure you were okay through _Tony_.”

“So? You were moving too fast,” she accused. “You were doing things without asking me.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

Natasha hadn't actually been planning to get into all this, but sometimes it was just impossible to avoid a fight. “You told Frank I was your girlfriend,” she explained. “Karen told me. And as far as I know, you never asked _me_ if I wanted to be.”

For a second there, she was pretty sure Steve was going to turn on his heel and march out of there. He looked so confused and offended and definitely at a loss for words. Natasha watched as he gathered himself and straightened up, giving her a firm look. “Did _I_ ever call you my girlfriend?” He asked. “Did you ever actually hear me say a goddamn thing about that?”

Natasha stopped in her tracks and her guard dropped a little bit because no, she hadn't. Steve hadn't ever used that word to describe her. “Then--Then why do you have that _fucking_ tea?”

Steve paused for a moment and just considered her like he was trying his best to solve the puzzle she'd laid out in front of him. Ultimately, though, he leaned down so they were nearly eye to eye. “Because I'm a nice _fucking_ guy.”

Silence. Natasha narrowed her eyes a little bit.

“Don't believe everything you hear,” Steve continued. He wasn't going to back down and Natasha didn't know why she was surprised. “Is that all this was about?”

No answer. Natasha only pressed her lips together a little more.

“Are you telling me that you had me fucking miserable trying to figure out what the fuck I'd done wrong, and it's all because of something I didn't even fucking sa---”

Natasha grabbed his jacket and turned them to shove him against the wall and press their lips together. She had to be honest- she wasn't sure he'd actually kiss back, but he did. Steve even went so far as to let his hands rest just above the curve of her ass, right where they belonged. When she pulled back, she looked up at him and licked her lips.

“I'm not going to say I'm sorry.”

Steve huffed a little and shook his head. “Course not.”

“But I will let you take me home if you stay,” she continued.

For a split second, there was this _look_ that flashed through Steve's eyes and Natasha couldn't place it. She might have likened it to... sadness? Defeat? It almost looked like he wasn't happy with what she said, but he was going to settle for it anyway. She couldn't even begin to understand what it had really been, but he was smiling a second later, so she'd look past it even if there was something making her stomach twist.

“I guess that's an offer I can't pass up,” he answered. She did relax, but there was still something that just wasn't right. God knows what, since now she had Steve back in her life and more importantly, back in her bed. To make up for it, she leaned up to kiss him again and took his arm as he led her over to Clint and Laura to give them the piece he'd worked on so diligently.

When it was revealed, Laura gasped and Natasha found herself smiling from ear to ear not because that was her present, but because Steve was on _her_ arm. It was a wave of possessiveness not unlike when she'd seen that blonde moving in on him, but not exactly the same either. This was more 'pride' than 'jealousy'. Different sin. They were both thanked profusely and headed off to find a place to lay low for the rest of the party.

When Clint and Laura kissed for their guests, Natasha and Steve were doing the same- in a nearby private room- with Natasha's skirt hiked up around her waist and Steve's jeans down around his ankles. Anyone who knew them noticed they were missing and no one said a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fast forward six months and Natasha was standing at yet another ceremony watching yet another couple get married. She wore a black gown this time; low in the front to show off some cleavage and clinging to her waist before falling into a graceful skirt. She even had little strips of fabric around her shoulders, and she'd paired it with a waterfall necklace she thought made her look a little more classy. After all, this wasn't just any wedding.

“Do you, Samuel, take James to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Natasha had to smile at the face Bucky made, nose all scrunched up at the use of his proper name. Sam laughed as he answered, but the words were crystal clear either way. “I do.”

“And do you, James--”

“I do, I do. Please.”

The officiant smiled indulgently and raised his hands. “I now pronounce you husbands. You may kiss.”

Bucky very nearly tugged Sam right into him to seal the deal and Natasha clapped along with everyone else gathered. Sam's side was a good deal bigger than Bucky's, but every single person gathered couldn't be happier for the couple. She only smiled a little brighter as Steve winked at her from his position behind Bucky because she knew what that wink meant. They'd really been hitting their stride in these last six months.

After Clint and Laura's party, Natasha had realized that she actually _hated_ that Steve wasn't calling her his girlfriend. Why not? What was wrong with her? But if she didn't want to be anyone's girlfriend, why was she getting so insulted that he didn't consider her _his_?

The answers to all those questions came in the form of Natasha's first meeting with Bucky and Sam.

“ _Hey! I was worried you wouldn't come,” Steve said as she came in, quickly putting an arm around her shoulders. He was hosting a little Valentine's Day party-- Natasha was pretty sure it was just because he knew she didn't like celebrating the actual day and a solo thing would be too much. Regardless, he led her into the kitchen for a drink and continued excitedly. “I've got two people I want you to meet. My best friend-- Can't believe you haven't met him yet. And an ex too. Don't worry, it won't be weird.”_

_Before Natasha had time to protest, Steve was pressing a glass of wine into her hand and leading her into the living room. She found herself standing in front of two men, the two men from that picture on Steve's wall. And the first thing she noticed besides the fact that they were clearly together was the absence of one of their arms.“Nat, this is Bucky-- and Sam. Guys, this is Nat.”_

_Sam immediately put out his hand to greet her, but Bucky opened his big mouth and-- “Finally,” he said bluntly. “Shit, it's only been-- what? Almost a fucking year?”_

_Natasha slowly looked to Steve and the latter had the good sense to give Bucky a glare. But that glare had nothing on the look Sam was giving him. “Do you ever think before you speak?”_

“ _Me? Nah, I usually just let whatever comes into my head out without much forethought.”_

“ _Clearly.”_

_Steve chuckled and shook his head. “They're actually in love. Don't let the constant insults dissuade you because they will get mushy and weird and you'll want to bleach your eyes.”_

“ _Don't hate,” Sam countered, purposely brushing Bucky's long hair back behind his ear in quite an exaggerated fashion. “You know you're just jealous.”_

_Rolling his eyes, Steve took another sip of the beer in his hand. “Been there, done that. I think I'm okay.” What struck Natasha was that she wasn't sure which one was the best friend and which one was the ex? Which of these undoubtedly handsome men had her-- Steve slept with?_

_Their little party turned into a lot of food, way too much wine, and almost non-stop laughter. Natasha couldn't place how she felt, but she likened it to when she was at the Bartons' place surrounded by Clint and Laura and their kids... It felt like family._

“ _So I come around the corner and this fuckin' asshole has three guys surrounding him and beating the shit out of him. And why? All because he had to open his goddamn mouth. Again.”_

_Steve smiled and shook his head. “If I didn't say anything, nobody would have!” He protested. “Besides, I had them on the ropes, okay? I was fine.”_

_Bucky gave him a look. “You were not fine. You had a busted lip, bruises on your ribs, and they almost broke your nose straight off.”_

_Steve shrugged a little as he refilled everyone's wine. “I've had worse.”_

“ _Oh, we know,” Sam added. “Should we get into telling her exactly how many bones you've broken over the years? Hm?”_

“ _If you must. It's not exactly something I usually brag ab--”_

“ _Thirty.”_

_Natasha raised her eyebrows and blinked before her head whipped around to Steve. “You've broken thirty bones? Thirty? How-- Thirty different bones?”_

_Steve gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I guess,” he answered. “It wasn't all from fighting.”_

“ _Ah, but a lot of them were from fighting,” Bucky reasoned. “Oh, oh, but he did break his ankle trying to get a cat out of a tree. Came down hard, stupid cat jumped right down afterwards and I showed up just in time to find Steve chatting with the little girl the cat belonged to. Like he can't move his foot, but did anyone call an ambulance? Nope.”_

“ _I was fine,” Steve laughed. “I didn't want to scare her, that's all.”_

_Bucky rolled his eyes and Sam reached over to pat his shoulder in sympathy, engagement ring shining just enough for Natasha to take notice. Ah, so they were engaged. “This is all very interesting,” she said honestly. “Tell me more. I want embarrassing stories, guys.” _

_They were more than happy to oblige, telling Natasha all about Steve's failed attempts at dating, his little embarrassing moments over the years, things like that. Bucky even found a picture on his phone of Steve from the very first time he'd gotten drunk. He was out cold on a sofa, long limbs thrown about, and Bucky had written 'Steve's First Drinking Binge' on his arm in lipstick or something. Natasha got the feeling that Bucky was the best friend and Sam was the ex, but honestly... it could go either way._

_Eventually, Natasha volunteered to clear the table and Bucky insisted upon helping while Steve and Sam headed into the other room for the time being. Even with one arm, he was happily stacking things up and taking them to the counter or the sink for her. But she supposed she should have known there was a reason he wanted her alone_

“ _So, how are things going with you two?” He asked. It was very much like that conversation with Karen, but this felt different if only because Natasha knew exactly where they stood._

_She smiled. “Fine. I think we're having a lot of fun.”_

_Bucky nodded. “Look, I'm like the last person to give advice about literally anything, but... you know. Are you planning on actually letting him in anytime soon?”_

_Natasha stopped and turned to face him. “They leave and the gloves come off,” she muttered. “What do you mean? I'm already with him a lot. We talk. It's not all fucking.”_

_Bucky smirked a little and leaned against the counter. “I know how hard it is, alright? To take that step and let them in. I get it. But Steve's not the kind of guy who knows when to stop when something's hurting him. He's gonna keep going even if he's really upset.”_

_Wait. Natasha's brow furrowed a little bit. “Are you saying I'm hurting him?”_

“ _I know you're not trying to,” he reasoned. “But I don't think it's news that he's head over heels for you. He talks about you all the time." He took a deep breath. "He also told me how happy you were that he wasn't calling you his girlfriend.”_

_Natasha looked up for a moment, then looked away again. She wasn't happy with it, she just found herself too embarrassed to ask him to do so after the stink she'd made._

_“The thing is that he was calling you his-- Well, his girl. He was too embarrassed to tell you the truth.”_

_Looking up again, Natasha's eyes widened in clear surprise. She must have been so off that night that she just hadn't noticed. And he was calling her his girlfriend after all. This time, there wasn't nearly as much panic. Maybe that was just because she'd already realized that being Steve's girlfriend wasn't tantamount to agreeing to another marriage. If he had been this patient so far, who's to say he wouldn't continue to be patient? “How much trouble are you going to be in if Steve realizes that you told me all this?”_

_Bucky smiled. “A lot, probably,” he huffed, pushing his hand through his hair. “That's why we should probably keep it between us. I like you, okay? Sam likes you. And you're really good for Steve, but you need to let go of whatever shit is making you hesitate here. Steve's not gonna hurt you, believe me. He's not that guy.”_

_Natasha pressed her lips together a little bit and settled the last few dishes in the sink for later. “I'm glad Steve's got friends like you,” she told him. “I think I can keep it between us.”_

_Bucky looked a little relieved, but Natasha wasn't done. “IF! If you tell me which one of you is the best friend and which one of you is the ex.”_

_The smile that came to Bucky's face was hard to describe; amused, to be sure, and the way he kind of looked off to the side made it seem like he was harboring a little secret that was going to make her crazy. “Actually, I'd rather you told him," he answered. "That's one question I'm not gonna answer."_

_Natasha looked outraged and grabbed him before he could leave. "Why? Come on, what's the big deal?"_

_"Oh, there's no big deal," he said. "I just wanna drive you crazy a little longer." He winked and turned fast to make_ _his way out to the living room. A very intrigued Natasha followed, not that she could continue asking those questions._

_Instead, she watched as Bucky settled himself beside Sam on the loveseat and quickly made her way over to the couch to join Steve. She pulled her legs up as well, her shoes abandoned near the door because she had no intention of leaving that night. While they chatted about childhoods and bad dates, Natasha realized that she kind of wanted what Sam and Bucky had. They were like best friends considering all the teasing and ribbing that went back and forth, but whenever they smiled at each other she could see that there was real affection behind it all. She could see it in the way Bucky would lean into Sam and the way Sam rested his hand on Bucky's thigh._

_When she finally asked how they'd gotten together, she got a story about recovery and a whole lot of love/hate relationship vignettes. Apparently Bucky was still dealing with severe PTSD along with the loss of his arm when they'd met. Steve dated Sam for maybe a month before they realized they were better off as friends and when he'd introduced Bucky into the equation, there was this instant chemical reaction that started off as fighting and picking at each other almost every second they were together._

“ _He annoyed the shit out of me,” Bucky explained. “But I looked forward to it because it was so different than what I was dealing with at night, or in therapy. Like he obviously cared about what I was going through--”_

“ _I'm a counselor at the VA,” Sam added quickly._

“ _Right, but he also treated me like a regular person and no offense to Steve--”_

“ _None taken.”_

“ _But it was really refreshing. Once the intense urge to punch him wore off, I kind of made a joke about kissing or hate fucking or something and we just went at it. Been together ever since.”_

_Sam shook his head a little bit. “We have the least romantic story ever. I'm sure Steve's going to tell it at the wedding.”_

_Steve grinned. “You know it.”_

_When Sam and Bucky left for the evening, Natasha followed Steve into the kitchen and they did the dishes beside one another; Steve washed, she dried. There was a comfortable silence for a while before Natasha opened her mouth again. “You've fucked both of them, haven't you?”_

_Steve nearly choked on air. “What? Where did you--” He glanced over and noticed the little smile on her face. “You talked to Bucky, didn't you?” With a long sigh, he shook his head and went back to washing the dish in his hand. “Alright, neither thing was really serious. I went out with Sam for a month and we just got into it because it felt right. With Bucky, it was more like two best friends fooling around. Not a big deal at all, please don't be freaked out.”_

“ _Why would I be freaked out?” She murmured. “I'm having way too much fun picturing it.”_

_Once they were done with the dishes, Natasha leaned up to kiss Steve and allowed him to back her up into the hallway, down said hallway, and into the bedroom. It was that night, after Steve had thoroughly proved once again that trying to find someone who was a better lay was probably an exercise in futility, that Natasha made her decision. She had to do this. She had to open up to him or she'd wind up losing him for good._

And so, coming to Sam and Bucky's wedding was a foregone conclusion. She'd been invited by Steve himself, but also by the happy couple. And she was ready for this night to be something even more special than Steve expected. See, she'd been trying really, really hard to open herself up the way Bucky urged her to. She'd slept over several times and even allowed Steve to take her out for lunch during a workday. She'd also allowed quite a few nights where they just spent time together and didn't wind up having sex afterwards.

“Hey! It was great, right?” Steve was finally done with pictures and had sidled up to Natasha at the cocktail hour. “They look so happy.”

 _Steve_ looked happy. He was smiling from ear to ear for his friends and it was more charming than terrifying, thankfully. Natasha still wasn't sure she ever wanted to get married again, but sticking with Steve for the rest of her life didn't seem like such a bad idea. After all, it had been over a year since they'd met. It wasn't like it had been with Alexei, who wanted to steal her away after a torrid six-week affair. Steve was patient. He loved her.

Yeah, she knew that. One morning a few months ago, she'd woken up to him sitting on the edge of the bed with coffee in hand, just watching her. He'd looked pretty bashful when he realized she'd caught him, and he covered for it by telling her that breakfast would be ready soon, that he was just waking her up. But she knew. She hadn't said it back just yet.

Once the reception officially began with Bucky and Sam up there for their first dance, Natasha went ahead and leaned over to speak to Steve. “You know, I've been thinking,” she said casually, eyes still on the dancing couple. “We should probably just move in together.”

Steve's silence was deafening and Natasha might have panicked if she didn't know him so very well already. He was probably shocked into silence, not horrified. “I mean,” she continued. “I'm almost always at your place anyway. If you don't mind a cat wandering around...”

Before Natasha could continue, Steve had pulled her into a hug. Not a kiss, not some kind of casual arm-around-her-shoulders thing. No, he pulled her into an embrace with his arms tight around her and his chin over her shoulder. She reciprocated, of course. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

She smiled a little bit to herself. “Yeah what?”

Steve chuckled into her shoulder and turned his head to kiss her neck. “Yeah, we should move in together,” he clarified. “Me, you, and Ryba.”

As soon as everyone was welcomed onto the dance floor, Steve took her hand and tugged her up there to celebrate. All of a sudden, they weren't just celebrating Sam and Bucky's marriage, but also a huge step in their own relationship. The night was a tremendous success; Natasha danced with Steve and Sam and Bucky, and she ate amazing food and met some new people too. If this was what it was like to be in Steve's life, maybe it wouldn't be too bad at all.

Later on that same night when she was joined by Bucky's younger sister Rebecca while the boys talked to each other over drinks some distance away, she said that she and Steve were happy together, that they were planning on moving in together soon. When she looked over to Steve, he happened to look back and smile widely, only to be teased by the couple flanking him to the point where they all laughed and Steve blushed. He had been so happy about moving in together and hey, she was happy too. She was going to wake up next to the man she loved every single day and she could  _trust_ that he'd still treat her right. 

Watching him duck his head as he no doubt defended himself, Natasha thought about how much of an open book he was. He really had his heart on his sleeve and if that hug he'd given her before was any indication, he wast the type of person who really responded positively to good news. Smiling to herself, she thought back on that hug and on the bright, elated smile he'd given her when he'd pulled back. He'd looked so happy. And because of _her_!  

.

..

...

Natasha could already imagine his face when she eventually told him she was pregnant too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for Nat's outfit at Clint and Laura's party: https://67.media.tumblr.com/e9e9c028d8ba1c06923e319ece37c07c/tumblr_inline_ofgujkmT1W1rqq24f_540.jpg
> 
> Inspiration for Nat's outfit at the wedding: https://68.media.tumblr.com/08886f3c2c37321d9518455a3ca95e6b/tumblr_inline_ofgujvesME1rqq24f_540.jpg


	7. And Baby Makes Three?

The first thing that was important to know was that Natasha hadn't ever planned on having kids. She'd been diagnosed with a particular syndrome when she was much younger and her periods had always been kind of irregular, not to mention that there was a long history of infertility associated with her condition. With that in mind, she'd made peace a long time ago with the idea that even if she wanted children, she might not be able to have any in the traditional way.

The second thing that was important to know was that Natasha had found out in the dumbest possible way and denied it for nearly two weeks before she was dragged into a doctor so he could prove it.

And the third important thing to know was that it was definitely all Natasha's fault.

See, it all started on Steve's birthday.

_July 4 th was supposed to be all about barbecue and fireworks, but Sam had suggested they all get away for a weekend to relax from all the wedding planning and whatnot. The foursome rented a place on the beach on Long Island and settled into their long weekend right away. _

_They did have a lot of fun. Barbecue the first night followed by lounging about near the pool with drinks. That turned into skinny dipping by the light of several tiki torches, which turned into both couples retreating to their separate rooms for the night. The second night, they went out to dinner and walked along the beach in the moonlight... which led to both couples retreating to separate rooms for the night. It would seem as though Sam and Bucky were just as eager to get down to it as Steve and Natasha were on a daily basis._

_On the actual holiday, they spent most of the day in and out of the pool. Steve and Sam cooked, Bucky and Natasha made the drinks. They swam for a while, then they just lounged around on big floating rafts and talked. The wedding was a completely banned topic, so that made things a little less stressful for some. That night, they set up a little picnic area on the beach and drank beer and ate the little sandwiches and so on that Steve had prepared earlier that day. The fireworks were wonderful over the water and by the time they were all wandering back to the house, Natasha was even more convinced that Steve was going to adore the little present she'd got for him. Because how could he not love it, right? She definitely wasn't nervous there._

_That night, she had him lay down on the bed and crawled over him for a little kiss. “Now just stay here,” she told him, leaning down to kiss his jaw as well. “While I go slip into something a little more appealing.” She moved to get off the bed and he caught her wrist._

“ _I dunno, I think you look real appealing the way you are,” he argued playfully, pulling her back in for another kiss and sliding his hands down to her ass-- where they'd been most of the evening thanks to a severe interest on his end and a pair of flattering black shorts on hers._

_Natasha smiled into the kiss, but ultimately pulled back again. “If you like this, just wait until you see what's next,” she told him, winking once before she slipped away. In the bathroom, she quickly undressed and pulled the lingerie she'd bought specifically for this occasion out of the little cabinet she'd used to hide it earlier. It was supposed to be funny, but make her look good at the same time. She had no doubt that Steve would find the humor first and the appeal second, but that was fine. Natasha felt like they had been at this long enough to laugh at each other a little bit._

_Ready to head back out, Natasha tied the waist of her little silk robe and took another look down at the ruby red, peep-toe heels she'd picked out. They gave her at least five inches and made her legs look fantastic, so she'd practically had no choice but to rescue them from the shoe store she'd visited. Once she'd checked her lipstick as well, she opened the door and stepped out to Steve eagerly awaiting her return._

“ _Wow,” he said right away. “I love the shoes.”_

_She had known that he would. But Natasha had a little surprise in store for him and didn't approach just yet. “I thought I'd do a little something special for your birthday,” she explained, slowly pulling one end of her belt to loosen the robe. “Would you like to see?”_

_Poor Steve. He nodded quickly, already shirtless and sitting in his boxers with his back against the headboard. “Yeah, I really, really do.”_

_Natasha smiled indulgently. “Well. Before I show you, I wanted to give you something,” she added, turning briefly to grab a star-spangled top hat from some concealed space she'd found earlier. She tossed it over to him and grinned. “Put it on, birthday boy.”_

_Steve chuckled and did so, plopping the big, gaudy thing right on top of his head. He looked stupid and cute and Natasha had to smile because that was the theme today; patriotism until they wanted to throw up. “Don't you look handsome,” she quipped, moving to stand near the side of the bed so he could see her close up. “In honor of our great nation's birth, I wanted to dress up a little more than usual.”_

_She finally let the robe open and fall off her shoulders, revealing a blue bra with one white star on each cup, and a pair of cheeky red panties with a little star right in front as well. To add insult to obvious injury, she let the robe fall and put her hands on her hips before adopting an exaggerated Russian accent. “What do you think?” She drawled. “Вам это нравится?”_

_Steve looked shocked for a few seconds before smiling widely and reaching out to take her hand. “I think...” He shook his head a little bit and looked up to her. “God bless America.”_

_Going entirely on instinct, Natasha kept that same Russian accent going as she crawled onto the bed and straddled Steve's waist for the time being. “So you like it, Captain?” She mused, idly sliding her hands over his shoulders. “Hm? Speak up, now.”_

“ _Do I like it?” He echoed. “I love it.” Turning his eyes up to her, Steve got this secretive little smile on his face and actually threw Natasha off just a tiny bit. “Я...любит...его,” he said slowly, raising his eyebrows like he was patiently waiting for her approval. “I think that's how you say it.”_

_Natasha blinked. “Are you learning Russian?” She asked, flabbergasted by the very idea of it._

_Steve smiled and shrugged a little. “I thought it'd be fun to learn a little, at least.”_

_Shaking her head, Natasha cupped his face in both hands and leaned down for a long kiss, determinedly drawing it out and deepening it until his brow furrowed and he really let himself go. When their lips parted, she pulled back enough to murmur against his lips. “Вы собираетесь приехать так трудно, вы будете видеть звезды,” she said impishly, pecking him on the lips and ducking down to mouth over the spot on his neck that made his breathing hitch._

“ _All I got was 'come', 'hard', and 'stars', but I like the general direction,” he huffed, already letting his hands wander down to her ass for a squeeze as Natasha made sure to press her hips down against him._

_As always, Steve was able to rise to the occasion in record time and soon enough, he was kind of holding her to him while they rocked their hips together and tried without success to actually get off that way. Natasha let her head tip back hard and groaned, and that was about all anyone could take. Steve had already mouthed all over her breasts, but he'd left the bra on in the spirit of the holiday. Thankfully, Steve took the initiative and flipped them over so Natasha landed on her back with a huff, her head at the foot of the bed._

“ _Ooh, Captain,” she teased breathlessly. “You're nothing at all like I imagined.”_

_Steve smiled and nipped at her shoulder as he tried to shove his boxers and her panties down at the same time. Natasha tried to lean up to grab her shoes and get them off, but he had to stop her. “Keep 'em on,” he said, kissing her ankle and tugging her panties right off over them. “I really like the shoes.”_

_Natasha pretended to be shocked and willingly spread her legs nice and wide so he could fit between them. Instead, he pushed her legs up over his shoulders and slid his hands down over her thighs as he-- regrettably looked down at her. “Got a condom within reach?”_

_No! Not now. Not fucking now. “Just do it,” she said quickly, licking her lips and wriggling a little in Steve's hold. “Come on.” She couldn't wait any longer, okay? Steve just gave her a slightly surprised look before taking hold of Natasha's legs and tipping his head back as he finally (blessedly) pushed into her. At once, Natasha's back arched sharply and she threw her arms out to either side to hold onto the sheets. “Трахни меня,” she breathed. “Come on, Captain. Fuck me.”_

_As always, Steve did. In fact, Steve almost immediately built his way up to the strong, hard thrusts Natasha had been looking for, the kind of thrusts that made her skin warm and her nails bite into the sheets on either side of her. “Yeah, yeah...”_

_At some point, Steve pushed her legs apart and let himself fall forward so he was hovering right over her. Natasha's legs wrapped right around his waist and she even let her heels dig into his lower back as he built up his rhythm again. With his mouth open and wet against her neck and all his bulk just pressing into her and the way he was rubbing against her just right..._

_It wasn't going to take long. Or so she thought. Steve pulled out at some point and they maneuvered themselves over the side of the bed. Natasha bent at the waist and spread her legs, shuddering hard as Steve came up behind her and took hold of her hips. From there, it was a punishing thrust in and full, hard thrusts right off the bat. Natasha held on tight to the sheets and moaned when Steve took her ass in hand, squeezing and spreading her open enough to see himself moving into her each time._

_She knew exactly what he was looking for and that was only cemented when one hand landed on the center of her lower back and a thick thumb pressed against her other entrance. He didn't press in, but he was there and Natasha wiggled her ass back against him to let him know she liked it. In fact, she liked it a lot. So much that she came the very second Steve's thumb barely pressed into her and he groaned without his rhythm even faltering._

_Even that didn't last forever, though. Eventually, Steve grabbed her arms and tugged them back for some kind of leverage as he fucked into her and Natasha's mouth fell open in short, high pitched whines for more. “What's gotten-- fuck, fuck-- into you?” She panted, smiling despite herself. She'd already come once and already, he was working her up again._

“ _I don't know,” he laughed. “I don't know.”_

_Letting go of her arms, Steve fell to the bed on his back and Natasha crawled right on top of him, shakily sitting herself down on her cock as slowly as she needed to. When she settled, she reached up to take his now displaced hat and plopped it right on her head, much to Steve's amusement. As his hands slid up to her breasts, Natasha reached back to unhook her bra and let the straps slide off her arms so Steve could toss it away._

_Unhindered, Steve's hands went right back to her bare breasts and Natasha leaned into him, which only made it easier to rock her hips back and forth a little bit. Bless Steve, he was still rock hard inside her. Natasha only let him rest for a few seconds before planting her hands right on the swell of his chest and using that as leverage to bounce on his lap, thoroughly enjoying the way his mouth made a little 'o' for a moment before his jaw clenched hard and he pressed his hips up in an effort to meet Natasha's movements in the middle._

“ _Ты собираешься за мной придут?” She panted. “Huh? Are you gonna come?”_

_Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna--”_

_Natasha bit her lip and planted herself down hard, rolling her hips enough to make Steve reach out for her hips and hold on tight, full lips parting and brow furrowing as he sought out his inevitable release. “Fuck--”_

_Steve came with a low groan and Natasha watched as his abs tightened and his pecs jumped and he was just fucking beautiful, wasn't he? When he came down from it all, he urged Natasha to come right up and straddle his head so she could come a second time. After that, they cuddled up like they always did, hat and shoes abandoned on the floor._

And that was it. The conception of their baby happened because Steve was too hot and Natasha had just been eager to celebrate his birthday. She hadn't noticed until she'd missed her period the very next week and... completely ignored it. Her periods had never been particularly regular, but when she randomly threw up two days in a row the week after, something felt very, very wrong.

Panicked, she'd purchased not one, not three, not five, but eight different pregnancy tests that she took over the course of one day at work. And according to eight different pregnancy tests, she was preggo, knocked up, with child, in a bad way. It was terrifying at first. Natasha could easily remember nearly running into Darcy's apartment after work, locking the door, and just-- coming out with it. After a lot of calming down and several offers of alcohol followed by even more swearing because they couldn't _turn_ to that, they settled on the couch and Darcy asked the most important question of all.

“Are you going to keep it?”

Natasha could remember the _panic_ that had swelled up in her chest at the very thought of having a baby. And what would Steve say? Would he want to have a baby with her? Of course, it took her all of three days to realize that if she didn't have this baby, she might regret it for the rest of her life. Given her reproductive issues, she might not ever get this chance again.

But it wasn't that knowledge and it wasn't Darcy's assurances that Steve would support her either way the thing that actually did it. No, what did it was when she found herself stopping in front of a baby store that she passed on the way to the train one day. She stopped, and she stared.

See, there was this tiny pair of booties right there in the window that she just had to have. Practically in a daze, she wandered in and bought them on the spot, tucking them into her purse so she could further study them on the way home. That is, she pulled them out on the train and kind of studied them for stop after stop after stop to the point where someone sat down beside her and asked when she was due.

That was all. Such a little thing and a simple question and Natasha knew she had to have this.

Darcy knew and because of a little episode of morning sickness while she was meeting with Bucky, he knew as well. Bucky had actually put her mind at ease by saying that he thought Steve would be super excited about the prospect of a baby, so that was something. Of course, Steve and Sam remained in the dark through the day of the wedding, but that was going to change very soon, as soon as Natasha figured out the best way to tell him.

In the end, she decided that she simply couldn't get the words out while looking into his eyes and hoping to see excitement rather than disappointment or fear. With that in mind, she decided to go the slightly cowardly, but hopefully kind of sweet route. It was on one of their lazy Sundays. Natasha was curled up in his big armchair and Steve had taken up residence on the sofa with the apartment listings in one hand and a pen in the other. Their plans to move in together were absolutely going forward, but she supposed it was best to tell him about the baby before they actually did anything together. Now that she was a little over a full month along, she knew she couldn't keep to herself forever... She was going to start to show at two or three, most likely.

And so, curling up a little more with her eyes mostly on the television, she took the first step.

Steve looked up at her after her greeting and smiled. “Are we texting each other instead of talking now? I didn't get that memo.”

Natasha just peeked out at him and waved her phone in the air to get him to go with it, which she knew he would do as soon as he realized she wanted him to. Of _course_ , the first thing he jumped to was that there might be something wrong. He was sweet to worry after her that way, but Natasha was quick to reassure him. She was healthy; good weight, no problems other than the ones she'd never told him about, not even a cold.

He asked again what was going on and Natasha, even though she'd promised herself she wouldn't ask him for anything, found herself asking him to promise that he wouldn't just get up and leave. If he didn't want her to have it or if he didn't want to be involved, that was one thing. It was another thing to have him leave her with no explanation because she didn't think she could take that in her fragile and emotional state, goddamnit.

Steve's reaction was to balk and shake his head. “I'm not going anywhere. Natasha, if you don't tell me what's going on...”

Right. Natasha gave him another look and began texting again.

And Steve had officially reached his limit. Natasha peeked over at him again and sighed before tugging her lower lip between her teeth and slowly typing out her final message. Fuck. Fuck, she actually had to send that. Staring down at the words on her screen, she kind of searched for the perfect emoji to go along with it, but coming up blank... she just kind of added the one that she identified with the most. Closing her eyes, she hit 'send' and quickly set her phone down because this was either going to be very good or very, very bad.

There was a stunned silence that filled the room for what felt like at least ten full minutes before she heard the soft click of Steve's phone being set down on the coffee table and the soft rustling of the couch under his weight. She heard the newspaper crinkling as he put it down beside him and then he was up and moving--- over to her. Natasha's eyes opened wide as Steve dropped to his knees right in front of her armchair and reached up to take her hand. She straightened up as much as she could with her legs all pulled up under her and blinked down at him.

“Will you marry me?”

Oh, God. Steve.

Natasha smiled indulgently and shifted around to take his hand between hers. “No. No, I won't.”

His face fell and Natasha was quick to take his cheeks in both hands so she could pull him up for a little kiss. “I'm not going to marry you just because I'm pregnant,” she explained.

Steve gave her a little, crooked smile. “I mean, it wouldn't _only_ be because you're pregnant.”

He was so sweet. Natasha leaned down for another kiss and smiled. “Does this mean you're okay with it? Because I'm keeping it, Steve. I might not get another chance.”

“Am I happy that you're having my baby? Yeah, I think you can safely say that I'm happy.” Steve looked happy. With everything settled and Natasha's rejection safely explained, he stood up and pulled her right up with him so he could give her the kiss she deserved- and that was a real kiss, one hand at the back of her head and the other at her back, lips parted, her hands gripping his shirt as tight as she could. He wanted this, he wanted _them_.

That night, after they'd gone out for Chinese to celebrate and carried on with their own celebration in bed, Natasha found herself resting beside Steve yet again and realized that this was real. It was strange, but it felt like everything they'd been through had just been a part of this other life she had at one point because there was no way that the person she was when she'd met Steve could ever have come so far. Right?

“I love you, Steve.”

Or maybe she was wrong. Maybe she just needed to take a little while and figure out what it was that she wanted. Steve wasn't the thing that had changed her, but he was the person who'd helped her open her heart, who'd loved her even when she couldn't really return the sentiment. He'd never really pressured her either, not for anything; not for a relationship despite what she thought, not for sex, not for the kind of affection that made her uncomfortable.

Steve wasn't the only thing that mattered in her life, but this amazing relationship she'd been lucky enough to find and this amazing _opportunity_ that she had to start the family she never thought she could before? That meant everything in the world right now. It was the realization that she was truly happy that made the words come out, maybe just because she felt like Steve ought to know considering all he'd done for her without even realizing it. Maybe it was because she wanted to hear him say the words in return-- which he did, of course.

“I love you too, Nat. And the little jellybean. I love them too.”

Natasha smiled to herself and kissed Steve's chest as he pulled her in closer and grabbed the sheet to cover the both of them up for the night.

This was it. Her happy ending, at last.

 


	8. Steve and Natasha

Four years later.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Natasha crouched down just in time to gather little Olivia into her arms. “What? What is it?” She laughed. “I thought you were staying with Aunt Pepper for me.”

“I was, but _Mommy_ ,” she insisted, pulling back and bouncing right there. “Look what Auntie Darcy did for me!” Olivia indicated her hair, which had been carefully curled to hang in soft, shiny ringlets. Darcy had even put the headpiece on- a delicate lace band that wrapped around her head and kept her golden curls at bay.

“You look beautiful,” she gushed, touching her little girls cheek. “I can't wait for Daddy to see you like this!”

Olivia grinned widely, ever Daddy's little girl, and reached up to touch Natasha's hair, which was as of yet very much not done. “Mommy, are you gonna have curly hair too?”

Good question. “I think so, baby,” she answered. “Daddy really likes curls.”

She nodded knowingly. “Can I show him my hair now?”

Natasha chuckled a little to herself. “No, baby. Daddy's with all the other boys getting ready. We don't want to interrupt that, do we?”

“No, Mommy...”

“There you are!” Darcy came rushing around the corner. Even her hair was all done, wrapped up in a messy bun with tendrils framing her face just like Natasha wanted it. Pepper's hair would match, as would Laura's. “She's fast, this one. Do you like the hair?”

Natasha stood straight up and smiled. “It's perfect. If I can get my hair to look half as good, I'll consider it a win.”

Darcy looked up at her hair and frowned. “You'd better start. I'll send Pepper in to help you, okay?”

With that settled, Olivia took Darcy's hand and Natasha turned back to the mirror in her room. What if she wasn't ready for this? The question itself was crazy; they'd been 'together' for going on five years now. They had a child that they raised together, they lived together, they did everything together. They even had a joint checking account. They were already married in practice, if not by law. So what was the big deal?

“Don't do that.” Natasha's gaze snapped up to see Pepper's reflection as the other woman shut the door and effectively shut out the rest of the world. “You're thinking too much, I can smell it.”

Natasha sighed, turning back to give Pepper a helpless look. “I've never been marriage material. What if we get married and all of a sudden, it doesn't work anymore?”

Pepper shook her head. “That won't happen. You and Steve are perfect for each other.” She stepped closer and put her hands on Natasha's shoulders. “You have a beautiful little girl, you love him, and he loves you. There's nothing that's going to mess that up. Understood?”

Natasha inhaled deeply and let it out through barely parted lips. “Yes. Understood. Okay.”

“Wonderful. Now get strapped into your lingerie so we can start getting ready.”

Saluting Pepper and congratulating herself on the perfect choice of a maid of honor (although it was technically matron of honor, but Pepper refused to go by that). She disappeared into the bathroom and pulled on one delicate piece at a time; ivory panties, lacy matching bra and garter. She had briefly considered going the whole nine yards with the lingerie, but considering they were getting married on a beach, she wanted to be a little more natural than that. Plus, she refused to wear white.

She had a child. The jig was up.

Pulling a robe on, she wandered out to the vanity, where Pepper had just about every cosmetic product she owed spread out in front of them. “Remember, we're going natural,” Natasha reminded her. “Just enough.”

Pepper looked more than a little determined to get it right. She worked diligently while Natasha tipped her head this way and that on command. Eventually, she turned Natasha away from the mirror to do her hair as well; freshly washed, she only added a bit of product to it and made sure it was falling in soft, loose curls down her back. While the bridesmaids had theirs up, Natasha chose to wear hers down the way that Steve liked it best.

Natasha chose not to wear any earrings, but she paired her dress with a delicate silver bracelet and a silver chain with a little pendant Steve had gotten her for her birthday a couple of years back. Her makeup was just the way she wanted it; classic black eyeliner, a touch of mascara, and lipstick in a shade somewhere between pink and red. “You look beautiful,” Pepper told her. “Next step, let's get you into that dress.”

It was like she was a whole other person. Natasha stood up and watched as Pepper pulled her dress from the plastic bag they'd been storing it in. It was unlike anything she'd ever worn before; ivory and so delicate she'd been nervous about touching it between the time they bought it and now. The neckline was low, but not indecent, and the little bodice ended at her waist to make way for soft, gossamer layers that swished around her legs when she moved. The back was completely open, the dress held up by a few strings that connected the front to the lowest part of the back. Natasha felt like a princess in it and she wasn't even sure it was just the dress. How could anyone feel like anything less than a princess while marrying Steve?

The finishing touch was the bouquet of daises that Pepper pressed into her hand and all of a sudden, Natasha was looking at a bride in the mirror. Darcy's gasp broke the silence and Natasha had to smile because she was marrying the man she loved. She was marrying someone that she had no doubt would stand beside her for the rest of her life, someone who was inherently good and strong and someone who loved her for _her_ , no matter what. For some reason, she immediately thought back to his proposal.

 

_Natasha mostly worked from home these days. On the rare occasions that she had to go into the office or meet someone for some discussion or negotiation, she would arrange for Steve to stay home, or Bucky would come over and watch Olivia, or Darcy would do the honors... They were lucky to have such a wonderful support system. It was on one of those days that she came home feeling like she could barely handle dealing with an energetic toddler, let alone an equally energetic boyfriend. With circles under her eyes and her hair clipped back because she just couldn't deal with it on the way home, she got home and stepped in just as Olivia came running around the corner to meet her._

_"Mommy!" She ran over for a hug and Natasha scooped her up right away, kissing her cheek._

_"Hi, baby," she said tiredly. "Where's Daddy?"_

_Olivia giggled. "He's hiding, Mommy! Put me down, put me down!"_

_Natasha did as she was told and blinked down at the little girl. "Steve?" She tried, glancing around. Nothing. Weird. "Okay, Livvy," she said quietly. "Where's Daddy hiding?"_

_She laughed again and shook her head before proudly handing Natasha a little sheet of paper that she'd had all folded up in her hand. Natasha unfolded it as she set her bag down and slipped out of her shoes, but the words written on it didn't really help._

_'In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.' But the picture did. Printed off the computer was a picture of the two of them in bed- a selfie where they were both smiling up at the camera, Natasha's hair spread out over the pillow and Steve's in disarray._

_Natasha blinked and looked down at Olivia, who was smiling up at her. Okay. So. Pride and Prejudice... and the bedroom? "Come on, baby. Let's go see what Daddy's up to." It couldn't be a sexy thing if Olivia was still in the house, but this was hardly the first time Steve had done something that surprised her. Their first Valentine's Day together was practically legendary._

_In the bedroom, Natasha became even more confused because there were rose petals everywhere, but no Steve. She followed the trail from the door all thew way over to the bed, where another little note was sitting on top of her pillow along with a piece of her favorite chocolate. "Your Daddy is insane," she muttered, biting the chocolate in half and giving the other piece to Olivia as she read the next card._

_'All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.' It was getting serious if Steve was quoting Lady Chatterley's Lover_ _. But just like that, the picture contradicted the sultry tones of the book. It was a picture of Natasha still in the hospital gown she was wearing when she gave birth to Olivia. With the baby in her arms, she looked down at her with the kind of adoration only a mother could have for the life she'd just brought into the world._

_Olivia's room, then. Natasha again took the little girl's hand and led her down the hall, where they were greeted by all of her stuffed animals creating an aisle over to the rocking chair Natasha favored when she sang her to sleep or read to her late at night. There was another note, plus a little picture of Winnie the Pooh asking where his honey had gotten to. 'I _f you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.'_  _

_Back downstairs, they entered the kitchen to find a note propped up against an already filled glass of Natasha's favorite champagne. 'I've never had a moment's doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life.' As Natasha took a sip of the champagne, she looked carefully at the next picture and smiled. It was one they'd taken just a couple of months ago, back when the trees in the backyard had turned reds and yellows and begun to fall._

_She was all wrapped up in a sweater and leaning into Steve, who had his arms around her shoulders and his lips pressed right against her temple. They looked happy. For some reason, that picture gave Natasha this idea, but it... it couldn't be, could it?_

_Swallowing and gulping down the rest of her drink, she led Olivia into the hallway towards the open door leading to the backyard. Oh, God. Oh, God, this was happening, wasn't it? "Mommy," Olivia whispered. "I have to go first."_

_Oh. Oh, okay. Natasha nodded and let her go just as they reached the back porch, which was illuminated by candles on every available surface. The soft glow didn't penetrate the darkness in the backyard, though. As Natasha moved down the two steps to the grass, Olivia flipped a switch and the trees above them came to life with thousands of fairy lights meticulously hung on their bare branches. And standing just a few feet in front of her in jeans and this big, thick, stupid Christmas sweater with the most unnecessary muted patterns was her boyfriend._

_"Oh my God."_

_Steve smiled and stepped up to her, plucking something from his pocket and taking a knee right there on the ground. "Natasha," he started, only smiling a little more when she covered her mouth with both hands. "I think I've been in love with you from the moment we met. You're beautiful and smart and so unbelievably silly sometimes... You're an amazing mother too. And... I can't think of anyone else I'd want to spend the rest of my life with."_

_She could hardly breathe as he held out a little velvet box and opened it up for her as he said_ _those words_ _. "Natasha Romanoff, will you marry me?"_

_Like she'd thought before. Who could possibly say no to that?_

_Later on that night, she'd teased the hell out of him for being such a huge dork, but the truth was that she loved him for it. She loved that he was so unapologetically in love with her._

 

“Mommy, you look like an _angel_ ,” Olivia observed, moving over to her mother to touch her skirt. Natasha looked down to find her baby all dressed up for her part as the flower girl. Her dress was also in ivory; a little slip of a thing that trailed off into lace at the end and stopped mid-calf, much to Natasha's delight. She couldn't have her three year old in a gown, alright?

Crouching down, Natasha opened her arms for another hug. “So do you, sweetheart. So do you.”

“Alright,” Darcy announced. “Are we all ready?” She and Pepper were already dressed and ready in their purple gowns, both airy and beautiful as ever. She presumed that Sam and Bucky were equally as impressive, but not as impressive as Steve. She knew he'd look beautiful.

“We're ready,” she said confidently. “Go ahead, baby.” Natasha handed Olivia off to Darcy, who led the way out to where they would wait to process out onto the beach. With the sun just beginning to set and the fairy lights delicately lighting their way down the aisle and illuminating the little arch behind the minister and the happy groom, it looked more perfect than Natasha had ever even dared to dream.

First, Olivia slowly made her way down the aisle on bare feet, trotting along as she spread rose petals in her wake, just like she practiced. When she got up to the front, she ran to her father and giggled as he lifted her up and spun her around once before she was set down again and Maria, who was sitting in the front row, helpfully took her hand.

Next, Pepper took Bucky's arm and they walked down the aisle together. They were closely followed by Darcy and Sam, and then... it was Natasha's turn. As the music went from the soft melodic mood music to the wedding march, all played on the harp, she knew that it was time to go. And for once, for once since she'd woken up that morning, she didn't feel nervous at all.

Daisies in hand, Natasha stepped out of the beach house and onto the sand. Barefoot and feeling beautiful, she smiled widely the second she met Steve's eyes at the other end of the aisle between them. He looked wonderful; tall and broad in a perfectly tailored suit that fit him well. Steve looked as handsome as he had on the first day she'd met him. And bless him, he was just as fit. She watched as he took a deep breath and only smiled a little wider when Bucky touched his shoulder and squeezed.

Finally, Natasha understood what people had been telling her. Up there, it was like no one in the whole world existed except for Steve. He accepted her at the altar, taking both of her hands as they turned to face each other. “Wow,” he breathed. “Wow.”

Natasha blushed and ducked her head a little bit, still not used to his open adoration- and especially not in front of so many other people. Their wedding was small in comparison to some they'd been to, but they still had quite a few guests gathered there on the beach.

As the minister started the ceremony, Natasha just kind of stared into Steve's eyes to stay calm. She didn't doubt this decision at all, not for a single moment. How could she? She was just worried that she would get a little self conscious if she allowed herself to remember where they were and what they were doing.

But the vows came soon enough, and she was first.

“Steve,” she started. “I think we both know that I've never really considered myself much of a romantic.” Natasha smiled as he did and really wished she'd brought notes with her. “I definitely didn't make it easy for you to get close to me,” she added. “But over the years we've been together, you've proved again and again and again that you were so worth taking that chance.”

Deep breath. Natasha blinked twice and lifted one hand to lightly brushed a tear off the apple of her right cheek. “I can't imagine saying any of this to anyone else.” She squeezed his hands again and smiled widely. “But you've made me happier than I ever thought I could be and I'm honored to spend the rest of my life trying to make you just as happy as you've made me. I love you.”

Steve looked like he might cry. He was smiling so much and when Natasha kind of ducked away at the end of her little speech, he lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles before he began his own vows. “You are the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing,” he said plainly. It was so genuine that it made Natasha want to actually cry. “First you gave me your heart and I was so happy that I almost couldn't stand it. Then you let me into your home and I thought it couldn't possibly get any better.”

If possible, he smiled even wider and shifted from foot to foot before continuing. “And then out of nowhere, you gave me a _beautiful_ baby girl.” They both kind of glanced over to Olivia, who was beaming back at both of them, and Steve sniffled a little as he looked back to Natasha. “Now you're giving me your hand and a promise to be with me for the rest of our lives.” He sniffed again and Natasha just kind of figured he was going to start crying any second now. “You've already given me so much more than I could possibly deserve, but I'm gonna make sure you never, ever regret letting me into your life. I love you so, so much, Tasha.”

With that, the minister jumped in again and they said their 'I do's' while exchanging rings. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He turned to Steve and smiled. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Cheers erupted around them as Natasha stepped up close to Steve and tipped her head back as Steve leaned down to meet her. Pictures were taken just before Olivia ran up to them to join in on the fun, and then more were taken once Steve had scooped her up with one arm. And it was over. They headed back down the aisle together as man and wife and Natasha seriously couldn't stop smiling. While the other guests headed into the reception area ahead of them, the happy couple moved into a room on the side and Natasha threw her arms right around Steve's neck as soon as Olivia was put down.

“I love you,” she said warmly, pulling him into another kiss.

Steve smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning back a little to lift her off the ground and everything. “I love you too, Mrs. Rogers.”

The reception was held on the top floor of the venue, in a huge circular room with massive windows that overlooked the water and gave them the best view of the sunset either of them could imagine. There were tables set up all around the perimeter and a DJ off to one side to leave room for the dance floor in the middle.

When they were announced, Steve and Natasha walked in with Olivia swinging between them and giggling happily. Both girls were still barefoot and as Olivia ran over to her Uncle Bucky with open arms, Steve took Natasha's hand and twirled her around before smoothly pulling her close. To her surprise, that is.

As their chosen song started up, Natasha easily slid her hand up to his shoulder and followed his lead. “What is this?” She laughed. “Where did this come from?”

Steve laughed softly. “I took dancing lessons,” he shrugged. “Figured the least I could do was make sure you weren't embarrassed for our first dance.”

Just to show off a little, he spun her out and pulled her back in, happily taking her waist again. “You are so sweet,” she teased, leaning up for a kiss. “I'm so lucky.”

The rest of the evening went wonderfully. Natasha and Steve danced almost every dance together, other than when they were wandering around to thank everyone for the presents and sitting at their table to eat. Steve also had a beautiful father/daughter dance with Olivia, who was more than happy to dance on her daddy's toes, and Natasha danced with Bucky and Sam in turn.

They did a bouquet toss, which went right to Darcy, and of course spent their time doing the garter tradition. Steve tossed it over his shoulder and laughed as Thor caught it because Darcy very nearly cheered in triumph. Once that show was over, they set about cutting the cake-- meaning that they smushed it in each other's faces and laughed the whole way through-- and got right back up on the dance floor.

That night, after everyone had gone and Sam and Bucky had taken Olivia home to spend the night at their place, Steve and Natasha piled into the limo they'd hired for the day and went home. Natasha got out of her dress in a heartbeat, but not nearly as fast as Steve got out of his suit.

They made love like they had a thousand times before, but it felt like so much more now. For a wedding night, it was probably the best it possibly could be; spent in their own bed, in the house they were raising their baby in. The next morning, Natasha woke up to a shirtless Steve serving her breakfast in bed and that was only followed by another round of the same glorious sex she had come to expect from him.

Afterwards, Natasha crawled on top of him and folded her arms on top of his chest, resting her chin on top of them so she could look down at him. “So, is this what married life is going to be like?” She teased. “Breakfast in bed every day? Sex whenever I want it?”

Steve laughed. “I think it might be a little difficult with a certain little monster jumping into our bed every morning, but we could try,” he said easily, reaching up to push her curls back. “I like spoiling you. Always have.”

“Oh, I know,” she answered. Natasha briefly thought back to her pregnancy, especially the last couple of months. Steve had been so utterly perfect to her that she'd almost wanted to stay pregnant longer than she was supposed to. Leaning down, she pressed their lips together again and for the next couple of hours, they just laid in bed and kissed and held each other because let's face it, they never really got the chance to do that anymore.

When the door opened and a little voice shouted out that she was home, they had _thankfully_ gotten dressed and relocated to the couch, where they were wrapped up in each other and enjoying Chinese food and beers. That was just the kind of couple they were.

“Well, if this doesn't speak volumes about you two, I don't know what would,” Sam said as he entered the living room on Olivia's heels. “How was your night?”

Natasha sighed. “Perfect,” she said, tipping her head back against Steve's shoulder as their daughter sprawled out across their laps.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Glad to hear it. I'll see you guys later, okay?”

Later on that week, Bucky and Sam would pick Olivia up again and watch her for a week while Natasha and Steve made use of their vacation time and flew out to Ireland for a little adventure- and their honeymoon, of course. But in the end, coming home to their house and their daughter was endlessly satisfying.

The day they came home, once they'd given everyone their little souvenirs and showed off pictures, Sam and Bucky went home to let the happy couple settle back in. They spent the evening with Olivia, who had a ton of stories to tell about her week with her uncles, and all three members of the Rogers family fell asleep together on the couch, one blanket spread out over the three of them. 

If someone would have asked Natasha years ago what she thought the perfect happy ending was, she wouldn't have known what to tell them. Now that she had this, she couldn't think of anything more she could possibly want. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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